Human Interest
by MadLori
Summary: AU 1983: A reporter visits the small town of Farmingdale, Vermont, and is intrigued to learn about two men who run a ranch together outside of town...but when she meets them, the story she hopes to write takes on new significance.
1. Chapter 1

Bill watched as the lady writer put away her cunning little recorder and her leather-bound notebook, tucking them neatly into her briefcase.

"Really, Mr. Rensselaer, I don't mind calling a cab," she said.

"I won't hear of it, ma'am," he said.

"Now, didn't I ask you to call me Liz?"

"I will, soon as you call me Bill. I'm going that way anyhow, it ain't no trouble to drop you by your hotel." He fidgeted, still agog at the idea that anyone from the city cared enough about his town to come up here and talk to him about runnin' it. "I hope you got what you needed, even if I don't quite get why you need it at all."

She laughed. "You're the longest-serving mayor in the United States," she said. "It's human interest. People like reading about nice things after they get their daily dose of gloom and doom."

"I don't know what's so special about it. All it means is there isn't anyone else who wants to do the damned job."

"No one else in thirty-five years?"

"Well, I did have an opponent once…when was that, Annie?"

"1966," his wife answered. "But that man didn't have the sense God gave the common rodent."

"There, you see? If I didn't keep running, who'd mind the store?"

They went out to his truck, a shiny new one of which he was proud and which had earned him some taunts from the boys. "Where are you off to this evening, then?" she asked as they started down the long driveway towards County R.

"I gotta go see Ennis and Jack about the 4th of July picnic. We always shoot off the fireworks from their back field."

"Who are Ennis and Jack?"

"They run the Brokeback Ranch, over on the other side of town. Big operation. Supplies a lot of head for the dairy farms all over the state. I'm hearing that they're thinking of adding a dairy stable of their own. Hell, everyone's got one, might as well."

Liz was watching him, and he smiled to himself, wondering if she'd ask. It was a local joke to bet on how long it took newcomers to Farmingdale to work up the nerve to ask what the story was on Ennis and Jack. He was betting she wouldn't waste any time – reporters were the nosy sort. "And they're…uh…are they brothers or something?"

He laughed. "No, they ain't brothers." He waited, not giving her a bit of help.

"So…they're…uh…" She was having trouble phrasing the question, probably out of fear of offending him.

He shook his head. "I thought big-city reporters were supposed to be smart. They're queer, see? You're familiar with the concept?"

"Oh, sure," she said, hastily. "Sure I am. I'm just…well…that goes over around here? I mean, it's not like the city…"

He stopped at a light and looked at her. "Ma'am, this is not the Dark Ages, and we are not in Alabama. This is _Vermont_, and we leave folks to their own business. Just because we live out here in the country don't mean we're all backwards rednecks, okay?"

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean anything by that, but…well, I'm intrigued. I would very much like to meet these men."

"I don't know. If I could be sure Ennis wasn't home, maybe I would. Jack's real friendly, but I can't imagine Ennis'd be too happy that I brought a reporter into his house. And you do _not_ want to get on his bad side." He glanced at her face, silently pleading, and gave in. Never could deny a pretty woman anything. "Oh, all right. But if Ennis even looks at me funny I'm hauling you right back out again."

The writer grinned. "Thank you. How far is it?"

"About fifteen minutes outside of town."

"When did they move here?"

Bill thought back. "Uh…must have been seven years ago. They moved from Wyoming for just those reasons you mentioned. Didn't care for the hospitality."

"And they never had any trouble with anyone?"

"Well…I wouldn't exactly say that. I don't see nothing wrong with how they live, but I'm well aware that a lot of the peace they found here has less to do with folks being tolerant and more to do with folks wanting to leave well enough alone. When they moved here they turned out to be stand-up fellas, and they ran a tight, efficient little operation that got big pretty fast, and they did right by everybody they dealt with, so no one had no reason to quarrel with 'em. Everyone knew they were queer, even though they never said or did anything to make you think so, and you'd never guess if you met either of 'em on the street. There was one little incident, musta been about a year after they moved here. I was there, actually. I was having a beer with my friend Carter at the White Horse. Jack was there having a drink with a feed distributor they'd been doing business with. The guy left, and Jack finished his beer and started to leave, too. Well, there was a table of local boys…not our most upstanding citizens…who'd had a few too many and one of them yelled 'faggot' at him as he walked by." Bill sighed. "The whole place went quiet. Jack turned back and said 'Say that again to my face, boy.' Well, they all stood up, and it was five on one. I think Jack was gonna try to let it go, but one of them hauled off and punched him across the face."

Liz's eyes widened. "Oh no!"

"Quicker than you could blink, they were all on him. Some of us went over to lend Jack a hand, but just then Ennis came in and saw what was going on. I never seen him so mad. He walked right over and hauled Jack clear, and within ten seconds, between the two of 'em, all five of those boys were laid out with bloody noses and shiners. I gotta say, Ennis looked like he'd been expecting it, because he knew exactly what he was gonna say…and Ennis ain't one for giving speeches."

"What'd he say?"

"He just looked around and said 'Me 'n Jack have got no quarrel with anyone in this town, and so far, no one's had no quarrel with us. We don't want no trouble, but I want to let it be known right now that if anyone lays a hand on me or my fella, I will fucking end you.' It was odd, because that was the first time I'd heard him even say anything acknowledging that they was more than just ranching partners. And then they just walked out, and s'far as I know, they haven't had no trouble since. It's a well-known fact that you don't mess with Ennis. Jack neither, although he's a lot easier to get along with."

"How old are they?"

"Damn, I don't know from ages. Forty, maybe? I'd say they're of an age."

"What's their story?"

"What is this, the third degree? I'm not the world's foremost expert on Ennis Del Mar and Jack Twist, you know. We're friendly enough. Annie and me have gone for a few cookouts at their place, with some of the other folks from town." He turned into the gravel road leading to the ranch, the iron gate arching over the entrance and spelling out in foot-tall letters 'Brokeback Ranch.' "Besides, you can ask 'em yourself in a minute."

* * *

Liz leaned forward as Mayor Rensselaer's truck rolled down the gravel drive. The ranch looked well-tended. She could see cows in the paddocks, and a neat red barn off to the right. He crested a hill and she saw the house, nestled comfortably in a small glen with a seam of trees running behind that could only mean a river. It was a sprawling one-story, log and brick, smoke rising from the stone chimney. A garage stood to one side of the wide dooryard, three doors open, trucks in two of them and a newish-looking sedan in the third. The mayor made a noncommittal grunt. "Looks like they're both home," he said, nodding towards the garage. "Now, don't be insulted if you can't get more than three words out of Ennis. He isn't much of a talker." 

They pulled up near the garage and got out of the truck. The house had a wide front porch of red-stained cedar beams, but it didn't look like it got much use. The mayor knocked at the door, and after a pause she heard footsteps approach.

The door was opened by a man who, by his welcoming smile, had to be Jack. He was handsome and rangy, with shaggy dark hair and blue eyes. "Hey there, Bill!" he said, opening the door. "Was wonderin' if you were gonna come by tonight. Come on in," he said, stepping aside. "Who's your pretty friend?"

"Oh, this is Liz Forbes. She's a writer for the New York Post. Liz, this is Jack Twist."

"Nice to meet you," Liz said, holding out her hand. Jack shook it with a charming smile.

"Howdy, ma'am. What brings you way the hell out here?"

"Well, I came up to interview your mayor. He mentioned he was coming out here to visit with you, and I asked to come along."

Jack crossed his arms. "Now, why would you do a thing like that? What could possibly be so interestin' about a boring old ranch?" He was mock-serious, but his eyes were twinkling, and Liz could see that he knew exactly what had interested her.

She matched his expression. "Oh, no reason."

Jack half-turned. "Ennis! Bill's here!" he hollered over his shoulder.

"Y'okay!" came a shout in return, from somewhere near the back of the house.

"Let's go out back," Jack said, leading them through the house. It was homey and well-appointed. Liz envied the free-standing stone hearth at the center, which looked large enough to roast a pig. She soon saw why the front porch looked so neglected…one hardly needed it with a back porch like the one Jack led them to. It was a large expanse of redwood planking with a railing, shaded by the large trees and looking down across the lawn to the river. The sun was setting off to the side, and it was perfect.

"This is a beautiful porch," she commented.

"It oughta be," Jack said. "I never had as many splinters in my life as the summer we built it." He opened a cooler in the shade and took out two beers, handing one to Bill. "Beer, ma'am?"

"Thank you." She took it and sat down in one of the deck chairs that were loosely arranged around a firepit cut into the deck. Bill sat on her right, and Jack on her left. "This is quite a place."

"Shoulda seen it when we bought it. Beat to hell, it was. We're just lucky it took off quick enough that we could hire some help, or else it might not have made it."

The back door opened and another man came out, wiping his hands on his shirt. This must be the infamous Ennis, she thought. He was craggy and lean, like beef jerky, with a weathered face and curly dark blond hair. "Hey, Bill," he said, a smile starting and then stopping as he saw her.

"Ennis, this is Liz Forbes," Bill said, hastily. "She's a writer come up from New York to interview me."

Ennis nodded and sat down next to Jack, who wordlessly handed him a beer. "That so." He sounded closed-off already. "Well, ain't nothin' to write about here." The words had an air of finality.

"I couldn't help but be fascinated by your situation," Liz said, hoping to draw him out some.

He met her eyes, and she saw caution in them. "What situation is that, ma'am?"

She found herself almost afraid to continue, as if speaking the truth out loud might anger this man. But she had little choice. They couldn't dance around it all night. "I've never heard of a gay couple running a ranch as you are," she said. "I'd love to hear your story."

She saw Jack's eyes flick to Ennis's face, gauging his partner's reaction. Ennis displayed none. "Would you, now?" he said. She saw Jack relax a little. That seemed like an encouraging sign.

"People are interested in how men like you live," she said.

"Men like us," Ennis said, quietly, turning his beer bottle around and around in his hand. "You mean ranchers? Or retired rodeo cowboys? Or maybe men from Wyoming?"

Liz didn't know how to respond, but then Ennis glanced up at her and she caught a slight twinkle in his eye and realized he was joking with her. "Mr. Del Mar," she began.

"It's Ennis."

She nodded. "Ennis, the world is changing. Since Stonewall, especially. People need to know that there are all kinds of gay men, and that not all of them are cross-dressers or drag queens or choreographers or any of the other stereotypes."

Ennis frowned. "Drag queen? What the hell's that, some kinda car-racing thing?"

Liz chuckled. "See, the fact that you have to ask that question would come as a shock to a lot of people with a lot of preconceived notions."

"I ain't interested in their notions. Me and Jack just want to live quiet. We don't want no attention."

"Maybe she's right, Ennis," Jack said. "I don't like to think of other guys going through what we went through."

Liz's ears perked up. "What did you go through, exactly?"

Ennis shot Jack a look. "I ain't concerned about no other guys."

"Hey, if things are changing and we can maybe help it along by talking about what happened to us, I'm all for it."

"A lot of people are telling their stories, because they feel some responsibility to help the gay community," Liz said, hoping to appeal to Ennis's sense of civic duty.

It was the wrong tack. "Look here, ma'am. I know you mean well, but the way I see it I ain't part of no community except this town, and the only things I care to be responsible for are my girls back in Wyoming, this ranch and this fella here. So don't go tellin' me I'm obliged to help along a bunch of queers I ain't never met and probably wouldn't like if'n I did."

"Maybe you would," Jack said, sitting up straighter. "I keep saying we should meet more folks liks us."

Ennis shook his head. "Bunch of queerboys with tight pants who talk like little girls? I didn't care for their kind before I met you and I still don't." He met Liz's eyes. "Look. I'm gonna lay it out for you. I know folks say that I'm queer. I don't rightly know what that means. Could be that I am. Truth is that a good-lookin' woman still turns my head, and I ain't never taken a second look at a man apart from him," he said, jerking his head towards Jack, who was rolling his eyes. "I don't know what that makes me, but I know that I ain't got no time for the kind of queers who march down the streets wearin' nothin' but pink frills shoutin' about bein' queer. I ain't like them, and livin' with him don't make me so. All the men who live with women ain't the same, are they?"

"No, and that's exactly my point," Liz said. "You are different, and people should see that."

"I don't want no one to see. I'm glad that they don't. I get the feelin' that you're wanting to write about us in your paper, ma'am, and I'm here to tell you that I won't stand for it. We just want to be left alone." He stood up. "If you'll pardon me, I gotta check the fences." He set down his beer and walked off, his hand barely brushing Jack's shoulder as he passed.

Once he was out of earshot, Bill leaned a little closer. "His fences are fine. That's his usual excuse when he don't want to talk any more."

"You'll have to excuse Ennis," Jack said. "He's stubborn as they come."

"Doesn't it bother you?" she said, turning her journalistic questions towards Jack.

"What?"

"That he's ashamed of his relationship with you."

She saw Jack's face harden a little. "He ain't ashamed, ma'am. And if you can't see why he might want to keep a low profile, then maybe you ought to go back to city where things are so much easier to understand."

* * *

Ennis stayed out past sunset, which Jack might have predicted. He didn't bother waiting, just went about his usual business. He changed into his pajamas and sat down at the oak desk in the master bedroom to check the books. 

It wasn't until after ten that Ennis came in, looking a little sheepish. "They gone?"

"They are, as much as you made 'em feel unwelcome."

He stripped off his shirt and went into the bathroom. Jack shut the books and yawned, stretching like a cat. He heard Ennis brushing his teeth; Jack climbed into bed, planning his route to persuasion, a skill he'd had to acquire during life with Ennis. "Wasn't them that was unwelcome," Ennis said, emerging. "That woman wanted to turn us into some kinda spectacle."

"God forbid."

"Can't folks just let us be?" Ennis exclaimed, getting into bed. "My life ain't a goddamn feature in the Sunday supplement."

"Maybe if more folks read about our real lives, they'd be a mite less hateful."

Ennis snorted. "You think that if'n you want to. People don't change, Jack." He turned his head on the pillow and looked at him. "We got ourselves a good life now," he said, quietly. "That sweet life you said we could have? Well, we got it. I don't want to lose it. I just want to…"

"I know what you want. You wanna hunker down and hide here at the ranch and let the rest of the world go on by itself."

"That so bad, then?"

"S'fine for us, sure. What about all the other folks out there can't be with the person they want, because the world's still plain dumb about it? That was us once, you know. Nothing ever's gonna change unless people see we're just like them."

Ennis turned on his side and reached out to lay his hand on Jack's neck. "I know it's wrong 'o me, but truth is…I don't care about those other folks. I just care about you. And s'long as we keep to ourselves and don't raise no fuss, we're safe here. You're safe here." He sighed, while Jack reveled in this all-too-infrequent vocalization of Ennis's thoughts and feelings. "I'm scared, Jack," Ennis murmured. The mere fact that he'd admit such a thing to Jack was almost all the reassurance Jack needed of his significance to Ennis. "If we were to let that lady write about us, it'd be like a big old spotlight, and it might draw the kinda attention we don't want." He rolled onto his back again, staring at the ceiling. "I don't know what I'd do if'n anything ever happened a you," he whispered.

Jack slid closer and laid his head on Ennis's shoulder. To his surprise, Ennis immediately put his arms around him and held him. "Nothing's gonna happen," Jack said. "And I want to talk to her some more."

He felt Ennis's chest rise and fall in a sigh. "You do what you like, Jack. You will anyway." Ennis's hand came up and allowed itself one stroke through Jack's hair before settling on his arm again. "I love you," Ennis whispered.

Jack blinked, hoping he'd heard right. The number of times Ennis had said that to him was still in the single digits after twenty years. He rose up on one elbow and looked down at him. "You tryin' to make time with me, cowboy?" he said, smiling.

Ennis smiled back. "Didn't know I had to try, rodeo."


	2. Chapter 2

The mayor dropped Liz at her motel with a friendly wave and an invitation to come and visit soon…except she had no intention of leaving in the morning. She was already too invested in the story she'd happened upon tonight. Clearly, Jack was the key. He would have been willing to talk to her, but Ennis's reticence would be difficult to overcome.

Too distracted to sleep or work on the story she'd come here to write, she walked across the street to the Fishery, a favorite local restaurant she'd already spent a good deal of time in. Alice, a buxom fortyish waitress with bottle-red hair and a cheery disposition, greeted her like an old friend and seated her in a booth. The restaurant was almost empty.

"Alice, do you have time to chat with me for a minute?"

Alice shrugged. "Sure, honey." She sat down on the other side of the booth. "More questions about Hizzonor Bill?"

Liz smiled. "Not quite. I've come across a more interesting story."

"Oh. You must have met Ennis and Jack," Alice said, knowingly.

"Is it that obvious?"

"You got that look about you, like an antique dealer just found a Chippendale dining set at a country flea market."

"So, you know them, then?"

"Ayuh. Everybody knows Ennis and Jack. They come in a few times a month for dinner. They're good tippers. Polite Western boys, both of 'em. Always call me 'ma'am,' " she said, chuckling like this was a moment of high comedy.

"How would you characterize the town's attitude about their lifestyle?"

"Their lifestyle is no one's business but theirs, honey. That's the way they like it. They're never in anyone's face about it." Alice paused, thinking. "You know, I've only ever seen them touch each other once. It was at Augie Flaubert's funeral. He was a local boy, worked out at the ranch summers and weekends. Jack was real fond of him. Taught him to ride and rope. Then one weekend Augie was out riding with his girl and a car backfired and spooked his horse. It threw him and he broke his neck. Jack felt terrible guilty, 'cause he'd been the one taught the boy to ride. Gus Flaubert and Jack were friendly and Gus told Jack not to blame himself, but he was damn near inconsolable. The whole town turned up for the boy's funeral out at Woodside. I saw Jack and Ennis standing together, in their best suits, and as they lowered Augie's casket, I saw Jack crying, trying to hide it and not doing too good a job. Ennis just put one arm around his shoulders, real quiet-like, so Jack could lean on him." Alice smiled. "I gotta be honest with you. Before that, I thought they were nice fellas but I didn't understand how they lived. I was taught that it was an abomination, and against God's law. It weren't any of my business, but I judged them in my heart. Then I saw Ennis giving Jack comfort, and all at once, I got it."

"Got what?"

"That they feel what we feel. Ennis saw his man in pain, and he wanted to ease it for him, just like my Teddy would have wanted to do for me. And you know, some folks said that me marrying my Teddy was wrong, too, because he was Jewish. But I didn't let that stop me, because I loved him. Is it any different for them?"

"Do you still think it's against God's law?"

"Well, the Bible does speak out against it, can't get around that. But the Bible also says not to eat lobster, and most folks don't seem to pay that too much mind, do they? I figure, they ain't breaking any of the commandments. Best I can recollect, there ain't one that says men shalt not shack up with other men."

Liz grinned. "No, there sure isn't. You're a philosopher, you know that, Alice?"

"I just call it like I see it, honey. And I can tell you those fellas have stayed together longer'n some of the so-called proper married folks in this town." She sighed. "It's a damn shame, though. Since my Teddy died, I've been missing male company, and Ennis is one fine-looking man. I might have made my presence known if he cared for what I got to offer."

* * *

The phone woke Liz at eight o'clock. Rubbing sleep from her eyes, she sat up, her head pounding. She'd spent far too long at the Fishery the night before, chatting with Alice and drinking more beers than she'd meant to do. "H'lo?" she muttered.

"Oh, gosh…I'm sorry to roust you," a man's voice said on the other end.

"No, that's okay," she said, clearing her throat. "Who's this?"

"It's Jack Twist, ma'am. I was just callin' t'apologize for last night, and ask if you were still interested in talking to me for your story."

Liz was now wide awake. "I'm very interested, Mr. Twist…but I didn't get the impression that Mr. Del Mar was too keen on the notion."

A brief pause. "Ennis don't own me, ma'am," Jack said, quietly. "I'll talk to you if I see fit to."

"Well, I'd certainly appreciate that."

"I'll come for you in an hour and bring you back here, and you can spend the day. I'll show you around the ranch, and you can ask me anything you like, s'long as I get to decide what I'm going to answer."

"I can live with that."

"I'll see you in an hour, then. Good morning to you." He hung up.

Liz stared at the phone for a moment, then bolted out of bed and headed for the shower.

* * *

Jack hung up the phone and crept back to the bedroom. Ennis was still asleep. One of the perks of being successful enough to have hired help was the luxury of sleeping past daybreak while the hands tended to the stock and the chores.

He got back into bed. Ennis was curled on his side, facing the window. Jack pressed himself up against his back and slid one arm around him. "Wake up, cowboy," Jack murmured. "Daylight's burnin'."

"Mmmph," Ennis grunted. "Timezit?"

"Just after eight."

"Lemmesleep."

Jack pressed his lips closer to Ennis's earlobe. "Roust yerself, lazybones," he whispered. He felt Ennis shiver a little as the puffs of his breath ghosted past his ear.

Ennis grasped Jack's hand where it lay on his stomach and drew it up to his face. He kissed the knuckles and burrowed back into the covers, now holding Jack's arm prisoner against his chest. "Gimme a reason to get up, and I'll consider it," he said.

Jack grinned. "Oh, I've got a reason." He kissed Ennis's neck. "A real good reason." Ennis was tipping his head back to give him better access, and Jack kissed him again, closer to the center. Ennis started to draw Jack's hand down his chest towards his groin. "How about that reporter who's gonna be here in an hour for a reason?"

Ennis froze, then rolled to his back, his eyes fully awake. "Now, why you wanna ruin a perfectly good morning fuck with news like that, Twist?"

"Don't necessarily need to ruin it. We got a good twenty minutes before I gotta go pick her up at her hotel."

Ennis sat up and swung his legs off the bed, facing away from Jack. "So you're really gonna talk to her, then?"

"I mean to, yes."

"I guess you don't set much store by my feelins on this." He sounded sad.

Jack scrambled to the edge of the bed and looked up at him. "I'm doing this _for_ you, you thick-headed sumbitch. You still think that the whole world will come for us with pitchforks and torches if they find out, but it ain't like it was when we met, Ennis. I want you to start seein' that there's plenty 'o folks who wouldn't think no worse of us. I want us to meet some folks like us, who get what we been through, who aren't lookin' at us with visions of tar and feathers in their heads." Ennis looked down at him, sharply. "Ain't the folks here in town proof enough that not everybody's like your daddy?"

Ennis sighed. "This place is far from the world. You think 'cause we found nice folks here that the world's full 'of em. I don't want you finding out the hard way how wrong you are." He twisted at the waist and leaned over Jack, his expression turning suddenly tender. He raised one hand and brushed a stray hair from Jack's forehead. "You got this way 'o lookin' at the world like everything'll be okay. Sometimes you can even make me think so, too. I dunno if I could take it if that was beat outta you, and if that lady writes about us, there might be some folks cheerin' us but I'll bet there'd be a lot more cursin' us. That don't trouble me so much, it's what I expect. But I'd hate to see what that'd do to you, darlin'. You ain't built to take that kinda hate, not like I am."

Jack sighed and looked up into Ennis's eyes, once again thanking whatever God might be listenin' for the love he saw there, love for him, love that Ennis actually let him see. "I can take just 'bout anything s'long as you're still here to call me 'darlin,'" he said.

* * *

Jack pulled up in his truck at nine o'clock, right on schedule. Liz bounded over to the passenger door, more excited than she'd have thought possible to be spending a day on a ranch. "Morning, ma'am," Jack said, grinning and tipping his hat. "Don't you look all bright-eyed and bushy-tailed."

"I'm so glad you agreed to speak to me," she said.

Jack steered the truck back out to the highway and pointed its nose towards the ranch. "I reckon someone ought to. The way bad folks win is for good folks to do nothin'."

"Should I steer clear of Ennis?"

Jack chuckled. "You talk about him like he's some kind a troll waitin' under the bridge to gobble you up. He ain't mean-tempered, he's just cautious."

"What did he say when you told him you'd invited me out today?"

"Well now, what makes you think I didn't already have his go-ahead before I called you?" Liz just cocked an eyebrow at him. He laughed. "Okay, you got me there. Better to beg forgiveness than ask permission, my ex-wife used to say." _Ex-wife_, Liz thought, tucking that tidbit away for future follow-up along with Ennis's mention of having daughters back in Wyoming. "He won't make you feel unwelcome, but don't expect much of a contribution. Shouldn't make much difference, anyhow. Ain't much to know 'bout him that I can't tell you myself."

"I don't want to cause any domestic disputes."

"You just let me worry about that, hear?" He glanced over at her. "What'd you tell your bosses back in the big city? Surely they was expectin' you back today."

"I just told them I'd found a better story, and I wanted to follow up on it."

"They didn't ask no questions?"

"My editor trusts me. He better, he's my husband."

"Hooey!" Jack whistled. "Sleepin' with the bossman! That's got to be a few nights on the couch just waitin' to happen!"

"We've only been married a few months. So far, the work hasn't interfered. You're right, though, it's probably inevitable."

Jack was pulling into the gravel drive and heading toward the house. He parked the truck in the garage and led Liz into the house. "You can put your things anywhere," he said. "We'll saddle up and I'll take you around the property." He looked at her. "Can you ride a horse?"

"I grew up in Kentucky, Jack," she said. "Which means I grew up on a horse."

"Fair enough." She glanced around as they walked through the house to the back entrance. Jack saw her furtive looks and chuckled. "He ain't here. He went out to the stockyard before I left to fetch you." In spite of herself, Liz felt herself relax now that the prospect of a confrontation with the formidable Ennis was no longer looming over her head.

The stables were a long clapboard building over the ridge from the house. Like the rest of the ranch, they were neatly tended. She saw a few men – hired hands, no doubt – walking about with purposeful strides, and a younger man who seemed to be a groom sweeping up the center aisle of the stable. "How many employees do you have?" she asked.

Jack turned to the groom for a moment. "Billy, could you saddle up Clairie for Ms. Roberts here?"

The young man nodded. "Sure thing, Mr. Twist." He ran off.

Jack faced her again. "How many? It varies. We have a permanent stock manager and a foreman, and anywhere from ten to fifteen ranch hands dependin' on the season. Billy the groom you just met, and we got a housekeeper." He grinned. "Neither me nor Ennis can cook worth shit and we ain't no good at cleanin', neither."

Billy brought two horses up. Liz mounted hers without assistance, noting Jack's raised eyebrow and hoping it was a favorable assessment of her horsemanship.

They walked their horses slowly around the compound. Jack pointed out its features and buildings, his pride in what he'd accomplished evident in his voice. Liz found it interesting, but had trouble focusing given the existence of a far more interesting topic of conversation that wasn't yet being broached.

Jack seemed to sense her impatience, and led them to a meadow by a wide spot in the river. There was a large grill and some tables and chairs set up here. They dismounted, tied the horses to a hitching post, and sat down. "All right, you've been more'n patient," Jack said. "I can't string you along no longer. Go ahead and ask me whatever you've a mind to."

Liz tried not to look too excited. She drew her notebook out of her jacket pocket. "I guess I should start at the beginning," she said. "When did you meet Ennis?"

"1963."

"And had you ever…uh, had a relationship with a man before?"

"No. Neither had he. Although I'd be a liar if I said I hadn't had a few odd-seemin' thoughts flit through my head. I had an inklin' that I might lean that direction. Not that I really knew what it meant, or what it was called." He paused, and seemed to be gathering his thoughts. "We met when we was both working for a right bastard called Aguirre, tending his sheep out at a place called Brokeback Mountain."

The significance of the name was not lost on Liz, given the name of the ranch. She listened raptly, barely taking notes, as Jack told her a story. It wasn't the story she'd expected. It was full of frustration and passion and fear. She was shocked to learn that Jack and Ennis had been separated, without writing or speaking, for four years after the summer they met. She heard Jack's long-ago anxiety as he drove to Wyoming to see Ennis for the first time, and saw on his face the still-palpable exhilaration of Ennis's welcome. "It shocked the hell outta me," he said. "Still does, when I think on it, which I do often. I thought we'd shake hands and catch up and maybe, _maybe_ later on we'd get a mite physical behind closed doors where it was safe. I never imagined in my wildest dreams that he'd grab me like he couldn't help himself and kiss me like that, right out in the open, where anybody could see us if'n they looked the right way." He glanced at her. "Ennis ain't a man to speak what he feels, as I'm sure you'd gather. Hell, we'd lived here two years before he ever said…well, you know…to me. Man like that, you gotta read his actions. What he does, that's what's important. And when he done that, it told me he'd been missin' me just's much as I'd been missin' him. It let me know how he felt clearer'n he ever coulda done himself. There was a lotta hard years with us, but I kept that in my head all the time and held onto it."

He stopped. Liz cast about in her mind for another question. "Do you have second thoughts about having left your wife and son?"

He didn't respond for a few seconds, but she could see his jaw working. "They're better off without me," he said, quietly. "There was…well, some talk about me in town before I left. It wasn't good for neither of 'em. Me gone, talk dies down eventually. I hear Lureen's got married again, and that eases my mind some." He glanced at her. "I ain't proud that I married her when I didn't love her," he said. "It was just what you did back then, and she made it clear she was amenable, and I knew it'd be the end of my starvin' days." He looked down at his hands. "Lookin' back it wasn't no good, but I was just tryin' t'find a way to fill up that big hole I had in the middle 'o me 'cause I couldn't be with Ennis. So when his divorce come through, I confess I never looked back. I was just so damn happy he finally wanted t'be with me." He met her eyes. "You wanna hear 'bout regrets 'o that kind, you'll have to talk to Ennis."

As if uttering the man's name had summoned him, Ennis came riding through the trees towards them. He dismounted and approached, feigning nonchalance. "Howdy," he said.

"Hello, Ennis," Liz said, determined to be friendly and open despite the fact that he terrified her for reasons she couldn't really discern.

He stood before them, thumbs hooked into his belt and the brim of his hat shading his eyes. "You fixin' to stay for supper, ma'am?" he asked.

Liz swallowed. "That'd be nice."

Ennis nodded. "The lady what helps us around the house is visitin' her mamma over'n Rochester this week. Thought I'd make up a pot 'o chili. It's about the only thing I c'n make that won't choke a horse." He looked at Jack. "Jack, you mind runnin' into town for the fixin's?"

Jack was nodding like this was no surprise to him. He stood up. "You know, if you wanna get rid 'o me so's you c'n have a word with Liz in private, you could just say so."

Ennis cocked his head, and Liz saw a twinkle lurking around the corners of his eyes as he looked at Jack. "Didn't wanna hurt your feelins none, bud. I know how sensitive you are'n all," he said. Liz could pick up the teasing tone, and sensed a private joke.

Jack shook his head and started off towards his horse, giving Ennis a shove as he passed and muttering something under his breath that sounded suspiciously like "Fuck you."

Ennis sat down in the chair Jack had just vacated. Liz waited for him to speak; she had no idea how to even begin questioning this man. Finally, once the sound of Jack's hoofbeats had died off, he spoke. "Jack c'n say what he likes," he said. "He can spill the whole damn story and I'll not stop him. But if you still mean to write about us, I can't allow it."

"What is it that you're afraid of, Ennis? You don't strike me as a man who'd let himself be ruled by fear."

"Oh, I ain't no coward. I ain't afraid of nothin' s'long as I'm the only one at risk." He sighed. "It's just that I know my bill's comin' due."

She frowned. "What do you mean?"

"How much's he told you?"

"All of it."

He snorted. "Goddamn, that man's tongue wags faster than a bloodhound's tail when he's on the scent. Yeah, I bet he told you all of it." He fell silent. Liz waited, not wanting to interrupt his train of thought. He slunk down lower in his chair, his chin tipping further into his chest so that his hat shaded most of his face. "I tried to do right," he finally said. "I kep my word and did what I was s'posed to do. I married Alma and did my best to make her happy. I pushed him outta my head and swore I'd be a good husband and father. Thought it'd be all right, 'cause I was doing what was right. But you know what? It was for shit. I hurt Alma, and I never wanted that. She knew I was spoken for, even more'n I did. It wasn't her fault I wasn't man enough to back out of it in the first place." He paused again, and though she couldn't see his face, Liz sensed Ennis composing himself. "Then once me'n Jack struck up again, you don' wanna know how bad I wanted to just chuck it all, but I didn't. I was still tryin' to do right by my women, to be a stand-up man. And it was even more for shit than before. Finally I did what was wrong. I left the ones I'd swore I'd be true to and took up with the one I wasn't even s'posed to be thinkin' about." He met her eyes, and she could see his fear. "So you tell me, if'n you're so wise in the ways of the world. How is it that I could be so miserable doin' what's right, but so goddamned happy doin' what's wrong?"

Suddenly, Liz understood everything. "You're waiting to be punished, aren't you?"

"It's comin'. Ain't no getting around it. I dunno how I got away with it this long, but it surely can't last. You got no idea what it's like to wake up everday and wonder if today's the day that it all gets taken." He harrumphed. "When I heard what you was proposin', I thought mayhap that day'd come." He shook his head. "Goddamn, listen to me chatter. Jack'd fall over dead if'n he knew I was talkin' to you like this."

"What is it that you think will happen?" Liz asked, honestly puzzled. Ennis seemed a practical man. Surely he didn't think a bolt of lightning would come down and strike them all dead, or a Biblical flood would wash it all away.

He spared her a glance, shifting in his chair. "It don't matter."

"It's okay, you can tell me," she said. "It'll stay between us," she added, softly.

He nodded. "I ain't never told nobody this afore, you know."

"Take your time."

He sighed, deep and weary. "I get this dream. S'always the same." His voice got quiet, like he was afraid if he spoke the words too loud, they'd come true. "In the dream I see Jack walking down the road, then I see a gang 'o men with tire irons followin' him. I try to warn him but I can't talk, and I can't move. All I c'n do is watch. I see him on the ground, and I see those tire irons goin' up 'n down, and I hear them yellin' and growlin' like animals. Then they're gone, and I run up and he's layin' there. His face is all broken 'n bloody…" Ennis trailed off for a moment, then cleared his throat and went on. "He's dead, and there ain't nothin' I c'n do about it. My Jack, dead by the side 'o the road, beaten to death 'cause 'o me…and I just let it happen." Liz was speechless. She watched the tidal shifts going on underneath the skin of Ennis's face, what she could see of it. He drew himself up a bit and glanced at her. "I can't never shake the feelin' that this was s'posed to happen, that someday it might. So you'll have t'forgive me if'n I ain't willin' to do nothin' that might let the boys with the tire irons know where we are, and how we live. Those boys is everywhere, even if we ain't never met none so far here in Farmingdale. Them tire irons is the only thing that scares me, Liz. And I mean to hang on to what I got even if'n it makes me hide here like a rabbit with the hunters about."

It took Liz a few moments to find her voice. "Ennis, I owe you an apology," she croaked through her swollen throat.

"How's that, ma'am?"

"I thought you were just being stubborn, or prideful, or just plain reclusive."

"And now?" He met her eyes.

Liz blinked a few times, quickly. "It's just because you love him."

Ennis said nothing. He looked out across the river again, his eyes squinted against the afternoon sunlight. His lips pressed and flattened a few times, and when he finally answered, she had to lean closer to hear him. "Ma'am, I love him somethin' fierce," he said, the words fighting their way past those thin lips.

Liz nodded and watched his face, thinking. "Okay. Hear me out, will you?" He nodded. "I think you and Jack are remarkable men. I think you're strong and courageous, and I think the world needs to know you. And I think you agree with me." He looked at her. "What Jack said last night? About helping other men like you? I think you want to, but you're too afraid of the attention and the publicity." His silence felt like agreement. "Ennis, I'm just dying to write about you. But I can do it and keep you safe at the same time. I can change your names, I can change what state you live in. I could say you live in upstate New York. I could change the Brokeback here to a dairy farm, or a soybean farm, or whatever you like. I could make it so no one would know it was you, or who you were, or where you were."

Ennis seemed to be considering this. "That so?"

"It's done all the time. Names and places are changed to protect people's privacy, or their security, or their anonymity. I don't have a problem with that. So if anyone with a tire iron gets it in their head to make trouble, they'll be looking around upstate New York for a couple of gay dairy farmers that don't exist."

Ennis raised an eyebrow. "Well, the folks who actually live in upstate New York will know you made it up, now won't they?"

"It doesn't matter. The article will say that your names and location have been changed. It just won't say how."

He grunted. "Somebody could still find us if'n they had a mind to."

"They'd have to be really dedicated," Liz said. "Hate crimes are impulse crimes, opportunistic attacks. No one's going to spend weeks searching all of New England to find you on account of one article in the paper." She matched his arched eyebrow. "Now you're just being difficult."

He narrowed his eyes, then chuckled a bit. "Damn, listen a you. One morning with Jack and you already sound like him." He sighed, then seemed to come to a decision. "All right, then. If'n you c'n promise me that nothin' you write could bring us no unwanted attention, I'll go along."

Liz could hardly believe it. She beamed and grabbed his hand, shaking it vigorously. "Ennis, thank you! I'm so grateful…you won't be sorry, I promise that…"

"Hush, now," he said. "I got a few conditions 'o my own. If'n you're gonna write about us, then it ain't gonna be no half-assed little interview. You're gonna learn what life's like here on the ranch."

She frowned. "Well, I suppose that's…"

"So after supper, I'll drive you into town to pick up your things. You're gonna be our guest right here." One corner of his mouth curled up into what she could have sworn was a smirk. "You wanna write about our life? You're damn well gonna live it with us for a spell."


	3. Chapter 3

Ennis's chili, as promised, would not have choked a horse, but that was really the best thing that could be said about it. Liz had been raised properly, so she ate what was set in front of her, augmenting small bites with frequent helpings from the bread basket and the plate of cheese in the center of the table. 

"How long 'till Marianne gets back?" Jack asked, staring into his bowl with a bleak expression.

"Saturday." Ennis paused, spoon halfway to his mouth. "If'n my chili's not to your taste, friend, there's beans in the pantry," he said. Liz heard a current of sarcasm in the words, and the look Jack shot him let her know it was another joke between them that she wasn't in on.

"Thanks. The chili's just _fine._" He got up and brought the milk jug back to the table, refilling Liz's glass. "How long're you fixin' t'stay, Liz?"

"Well, I don't know," she said. "Seeing as it wasn't my idea in the first place."

Jack frowned. "It wasn't?" Ennis had become very interested in his chili. Jack set down the milk jug and put his hands on his hips, looking down at the top of Ennis's head. "What's she talkin' about, now?"

He shrugged. "Just seems t'me that if she's gonna write 'bout us, she ought to know what she's talking 'bout."

"So what, you kidnappin' this poor woman? Lockin' her in the guest room like the goddamn Black Hole of Calcutta?"

"I thought you'd be all for it! You're the one's all keen to tell her yer life story! Not that it'd make very interestin' readin'," Ennis muttered under his breath.

Jack sat back down. "Liz, you stay as long as you like, you _leave_ when you like, and don't let Mister Paranoia here make you think you got to stay if'n you'd rather not."

"I'm happy to be here," Liz said, meaning it. The prospect of really getting inside their lives, both practical and emotional, was putting thoughts into her head. Some of those thoughts came under headings such as 'book deal' and 'Pulitzer.' "My paper's cleared it, I'm free to stay as long as you'll have me."

"For myself, I'm glad 'o the company," Jack said. "It gets kinda quiet about when your fella spends most evenins practicin' his cigar-store Indian impersonation." Ennis didn't react to this. He was probably accustomed to Jack's jibes at his expense.

"I'm thinking that I'd like to stay at least through the weekend, if that's all right," Liz said.

Ennis looked up. "Well, then you'll get to meet my daughter."

Liz felt a thrilled little shiver run up her spine. That would have been more than she could ever have hoped for. "Really?"

"Mm-hmm. My oldest, Junior, is coming out for a visit. I'm goin'a Burlington to pick her up on Friday night." She could see the excitement in his eyes.

"I'd_ love_ to meet her!" Liz exclaimed.

"Fair's this weekend, too," Jack said. "Just a dairy fair, but it's somethin' of a social event in town."

"Well, that settles it. I'll just _have_ to stay through the weekend."

Liz helped clear the table. Once all the dishes were in the kitchen, Ennis shrugged into his jacket and put on his hat. "I oughta check that north fenceline again. Three mornin's runnin' we're findin' tracks and holes."

Jack joined Ennis near the back door, which led from the kitchen out to the porch and from there to the yard and the stables. This was clearly not a conversation meant for her, but she tried to listen in without being too obvious about it. "Are you takin' the rifle?" Jack asked.

"I'm takin' the shotgun."

"Take the rifle." She heard Ennis sigh at this suggestion. "Please, Ennis. Rory saw another one in his back forty last weekend."

"Damn rifle don't fit in my saddle, it bangs on my leg the whole way. Gives me fuckin' bruises."

"Better bruised than dead." Ennis still seemed undecided. "Humor me," Jack said.

Liz looked over her shoulder and saw Ennis nod, sparing a small smile. "All right, I'll take the rifle." He shook his head, then briefly laid his hand on the side of Jack's neck. "You old worrywart." He headed out the back door. "Back in an hour," he called back over his shoulder.

Jack stood there for a few beats, then joined her by the sink and dried while she washed. "What was that about?" she asked.

"Ennis's worried 'bout wolves getting' through the fenceline and in with the stock. I wanted him to take the rifle 'cause _I'm_ worried 'bout bears. We been having a bit 'o trouble with 'em of late. Rory Duchamp…that's one of our neighbors, a dairyman…he seen one just last weekend out back 'o his place." Jack sighed. "I know it ain't too likely, but I got this awful fear 'o Ennis getting' mauled by some bear. Ain't it funny what our minds decide to make us scared of? I ain't scared 'o him gettin' sick, or bein' in a car accident, or getting' thrown from his horse. I'm just scared 'o him getting eaten by a bear." He chuckled. "Sounds so stupid to put it like that, don't it?"

Liz didn't think it sounded stupid at all. She wondered if it was significant that while Jack worried that Ennis would be attacked by an animal predator, Ennis worried that Jack would be attacked by a human one. "How often does Ennis's daughter visit?"

"As often as she can. Junior loves the ranch. I reckon she's out three or four times a year. It's just a good thing we can afford her plane tickets."

"You get along with her?"

"Oh, yeah. I'm real fond 'o Junior. She wasn't too sure 'bout me at first, but now we're just fine with each other. She adores Ennis, she and her sister both, and Junior's old enough so's she just wants him happy."

"What about her sister? She doesn't visit?"

"Francie's still in school, so she don't have as much time. And…well, she and Ennis tend to get in each other's faces. Francie's grown up a lot like her stepdad, and he is a nice enough guy but wound just 'bout as tight as any fella I've ever met. I know it eases Ennis's mind that Alma's married to a steady sort of a man. Lets him feel less guilty that she and Ennis didn't work out."

"How are things between them now?"

Jack sighed. "They get along all right. Much's can be expected, I guess. They don't see each other too often. Only when he goes back there, and he doesn't do that more'n once a year. But God, does she ever hate me."

"Really?"

"Looks at me like I'm some kinda child molester or lecherous freak what corrupted her man and ruined him for her." He shook his head. "Thing is, she ain't so wrong. Well, about the child molester part, yeah, but…I guess I did kinda ruin him for her."

Liz watched the bubbles in the soapy water merge and break, releasing tiny droplets and clearing the frothy surface so the dirty dishes showed through. "He didn't have to marry her, you know," she murmured.

"A'course he did. It was 1963. What was he s'posed to do? Tell her he wasn't goin' through with it 'cause he'd fallen for some guy he met on some mountain? I don't think so." He dried the last dish. "It was a different time. A closed time. It bein' closed hurt us, and not just us but Alma, and Junior and Francie, and Lureen and Bobby too."

"You don't seem to be hurtin' too much now, though."

"No. And I don't know what I did to deserve it." He smiled at her. "Well, you're sure gettin' plenty 'o material for that story 'o yours, aren't you?"

"If I'd known it'd be this easy, I'd have brought my typewriter along and gotten started writing."

"I never thought Ennis'd talk t'you as much's he has. I ain't never seen him do that. Hell, it took years till he really opened up to me, let alone no strangers." Liz sensed in Jack's tone an undercurrent of hurt that she'd accomplished so quickly what had taken him so much time and care. It occurred to her that she had it in her power to give Jack a small gift, without broaching the confidence Ennis had placed in her. She only hesitated a moment before going ahead.

"I did have a nice chat with Ennis this afternoon, when you went into town."

"Yeah?" Jack asked. She could tell he wanted to ask her what he'd said, but didn't want to be nosy.

"Yeah. He talked about Alma some, and about you."

Jack met her eyes, an ill-disguised insecurity lurking behind his. "And, uh…what'd he say 'bout me, then? You don't have to tell me, a course," he hastened to add. "I don't wanna bust in on his privacy, and all."

Liz smiled. "He told me that he loves you somethin' fierce."

Jack stared at her like he wasn't sure he'd heard right. "He said that?"

"Direct quote."

She saw a flush rise to his cheeks and a smile to his lips, then he looked away and cleared his throat. "Damn," he murmured. He swept his fingers quickly over his eyes. "Be nice if'n he'd say that to _me_ now'n again."

* * *

Jack watched Ennis getting ready for bed. _Somethin' fierce_ he heard Liz say in his head, and he felt the same warmth blooming in his chest that he'd felt the first time. He had to take his moments of reassurance where he could get them, because Ennis could be stingy.

He stood up as Ennis came out of the attached bathroom, teeth brushed and yawning. He met him halfway to the bed and wrapped his arms around him, cutting off the yawn with his own mouth. Ennis made a surprised noise, his hands settling on Jack's hips, and kissed him back a few times before pulling away. "You're mighty frisky tonight, rodeo," he said. "What's got your dander up?"

"Nothin'," Jack said, smiling as Ennis's arms went around his back. "Just havin' one 'o those moments."

Ennis raised a hand and stroked it over the side of Jack's face, resting it on his neck. "What kind 'o moment?"

"When I remember that I ain't dreamin'"

Ennis smiled at him, a lopsided, relaxed smile that went along with the look in his eyes, that look that said more than Ennis ever could himself, the one that Jack didn't get to see all that often . "If you ain't dreamin', then mayhap I am," he said. "'Cause you were always my best dream."

Jack pulled him close again and Ennis kissed him hard, his hands sliding down to Jack's ass as he pushed him backwards towards the bed. He laid him down and then joined him, pulling Jack's pajamas off while he shucked his own, and as Jack felt his warm skin against his own all he could think was _he loves me somethin' fierce._

* * *

Liz woke up in one of Jack and Ennis's three guest rooms. They'd told her to take her pick, and she'd chosen this one with its homey crazy quilt and a big overstuffed reading chair with a lamp on the wall overhead. She didn't think she'd ever slept so well in her life. The mattress was covered in a thick featherbed that she sank into like a cradling snowdrift, and the heavy covers created a warm cocoon she could have stayed in all day.

Only one thing could have pulled her from her hibernation. She oozed out of bed, her warm toes flinching when they hit the cool hardwood floor (even though it was June, the nights could still get chilly here), and padded towards the bathroom.

As she passed Ennis and Jack's room, she could see that the door was halfway open. _They probably aren't used to having other people in the house_, she thought. _But I won't look_.

She looked, of course. She felt guilty, but that didn't stop her.

The gray morning light spilled in their window and fell across the bed where they both lay asleep. Ennis was on his back, one arm flung up by his head, bare to the waist. Jack was on his stomach, his head resting against Ennis's bicep, one arm and one leg thrown across him. As far as she could tell, they were both naked.

Liz smiled. It was a scene of quiet intimacy, and that had been lacking in the interactions she'd witnessed so far. She'd been in their company for almost a full day now, and aside from Ennis's brief hand on Jack's neck the night before, they were reserved with each other. They didn't engage in ordinary casual contact like other couples she knew…but that was hardly surprising. They were probably accustomed to keeping their distance out of fear of offending or angering someone. Surely they knew that they didn't have to exercise such caution in front of _her_ , but habits were habits.

Liz's conscience poked at her that she was intruding on a private moment, and she cut her eyes away and went on into the bathroom. When she came out, she hurried past the open door and kept her eyes on the floor before her.

* * *

Ennis glanced at his watch. "Reckon I oughta roust her?" he asked. The thought made him very uncomfortable. What if she didn't respond when he knocked? Would he have to stick his head in? What if she had…parts…sticking out of the covers? He might drop dead of embarrassment right there. That'd make a good ending to her story. He could see the headline now. "Lady Writer Kills Rancher With Exposed Leg."

Jack brought over a plate of toast. "Give her a few minutes. Let her smell the coffee. That always wakes me up for sure."

Ennis watched Jack's face as he buttered his toast. He had a spot of blood up near his ear. Ennis licked his thumb and reached out to wipe it away. "Nicked yourself, bud," he said.

"Yeah." Jack brought his handkerchief to his face and blotted the spot. "Fuckin' dull razor."

Ennis felt a sudden rush of affection for him. He moved his hand down to rub at the juncture of Jack's neck and shoulder, one of his favorite spots. "I dunno what got into you last night," he murmured.

Jack winked at him. "Jus' you, cowboy."

"Sure made me work for it, though. You ain't done me like that since we was up at the lake this spring. I think I mighta pulled somethin'." Jack said nothing. "Seriously," Ennis said. "Why so energetic all of a sudden?"

Jack met his eyes. "I need a reason to wanna ring my man's bell good 'n hard?"

Ennis shrugged. "Naw, I guess not." He picked up his coffee mug and took a sip. It sure had felt like a little something extra last night, though. It had reminded him of the time he'd surprised Jack with a new mare he'd been admiring, but thought was too dear to buy. He'd grinned to watch Jack jump up and down like a kid, and then later that night Jack had practically wore him out with thanking him. He hadn't done anything to earn gratitude like that lately, so far as he knew.

Jack had the paper open now, his head propped on his elbow as he read the headlines. Ennis felt Jack's hand on his thigh, just resting there, comfortable like it was that hand's favorite spot. "I jus' love you, is all," Jack murmured, almost too quietly for him to hear, his eyes staying on the paper.

Ennis smiled, a happy spot of peace unfurling in his belly, and squeezed Jack's hand where it lay on his leg. He tried to think of something good to say back, but they heard Liz's bedroom door open and her shuffling footsteps approaching the kitchen, and quick as a wink Jack's hand was back on the tabletop. Ennis's leg felt cold with its absence.

Liz came into the kitchen, her blond hair all frizzy and crumpled around her head and her eyes half-shut with sleep. She was wearing flannel pajamas with little dogs printed all over them, and Ennis thought she looked just as cute as a little girl on Christmas morning. "Morning," she said, smiling sleepily.

"Well, well," Jack said, grinning. "Look who decided to get up today."

"It's only nine o'clock."

"That's a late hour on a ranch, Lizzie."

She looked up at Jack, taking a mug of coffee from Ennis. "No one calls me Lizzie," she said, but she didn't sound mad about it.

Jack shrugged. "Sorry, I didn't know."

"No, I like it!" She giggled. "I don't know why no one calls me that."

"Well, that c'n be your special ranch name, then," Ennis said. "Back in the city you c'n be Liz, high-powered writer'n such, but here you c'n just be Lizzie, flannel-wearin' ranch gal."

She looked from one to the other of them, her smile broadening, then shook her head. "Guys, be careful with me. Don't make me fall in love with you too much, nor this place, or I won't ever want to leave."

* * *

Liz stood with Ennis by the side of the corral, watching as Jack and Billy the groom worked with a new horse, who was proving a bit resistant to the ranching life. "Goddammit," Ennis muttered. "I told him time 'n again, that horse's sire was a mad beast 'n no good would ever come 'o any of his foals. But no, Mr. Twist just gotta have one so's he c'n prove that he's King Stud of all horsemen and then strut around town like a kid just popped his cherry braggin' 'bout how he broke him to the bridle." He shook his head, grumbling, and lit a cigarette, the first one she'd seen him smoke. He saw her watching him and looked a little sheepish. "I'm tryin' ta quit," he said. "Jack quit a year ago and he is after me somethin' awful. Says he can't stand the smell no more. Also says that if'n I come down with lung cancer when I'm sixty that he'll dump me off in some nursin' home 'cause it'll be my own damn fault." He snorted. "Nice, huh?"

Liz shrugged. "He's just trying to look after you."

"He oughta worry about himself a little now and…Jack!" he bellowed. "Watch the…" They both jumped back as the mare suddenly wheeled around, forcing Jack to literally throw himself to the ground to avoid her back legs. "Okay," Ennis said, stamping out his cigarette. "I watch much more 'o this I won't need the help 'o cigarettes to die young. C'mon, let's go out to the stables. Someone there y'might like t'meet."

They walked across the main compound, behind the house. "Did you build this house?" Liz asked, looking up at its handsome brick-and-timber rear façade.

"Most of it. Was a house here when we bought the place, but it was fallin' down. Good thing the foundation was solid. We thought of doin' the work ourselves, but neither of us is any kind 'o architect, and we were afraid 'o fuckin' it up, so we hired a builder." Liz pondered this, wondering just how much offense Ennis would take if she asked the logical follow-up. He spared her the trouble. "You're wonderin' where we got the money for all that, ain't you? Prob'ly too polite t'ask." He cast a glance back over his shoulder at the corral. "Oh, what the shit. Thing is, Jack's father-in-law hated him, and I do mean hated him. When Jack told ole L.D. he was leavin', L.D. wanted to make damn sure he'd stay gone. Gave him a heap 'o money. Jack was happy ta take it, but it didn't sit quite right by me. I don't like taking money from no man, but even I could see that me 'n Jack needed it bad if'n we was gonna make a go of it. So I swallowed my pride and went along." He smiled wryly. "And you know somethin'? We paid L.D. back every damned cent, with ten percent interest. And my, don't it just drive him crazy that his no-account son-in-law made it on his own and don't owe him nothin'! Not to mention that we put aside a lot of money for Bobby's college, which L.D. ain't never thought to do." Ennis laughed, and Liz could hear his pride in Jack in his voice.

They reached the stables, and Ennis led her to the last stall on the right, a larger one than the others and fitted with brighter lights. A man in jeans and a rugged flannel shirt was there with a horse, a tall gray mare. "Lizzie, this is Paul McGill, he's the local vet. Doc, this is Liz Forbes. She's a reporter from New York."

The veterinarian shook Liz's hand with a smile. He was bookish and rugged at the same time, somehow, and looked about 35. "Nice to meet you, Ms. Forbes," he said. He looked at Ennis. "A reporter? You win the lottery or something?"

"Naw. She's up here…uh…well, she came up to write about Bill, then decided she'd like to get a taste of ranching life."

Liz wasn't about to let him get away with that. "I'm writing a story about Ennis and Jack, and what it's like for two men running a ranch together in the country."

"Oh, I see," Paul said, grinning. "Well, Ennis, be sure'n tell her all about the time Jack got drunk and punched your lights out at the Labor Day picnic. That'll paint a nice rosy picture of rural life." He turned back to the horse, chuckling. Ennis looked mortified.

"Thanks, Doc," he said, through gritted teeth. He stepped closer and stroked the mare's neck. "How's my best girl?" he asked, his voice soft. The mare nickered and pressed her snout into his hand.

The vet straightened up, all joking set aside. "Ennis…I'm damn sorry, but her leg is bad. It's a stress fracture, and it's inflamed now. I'm afraid it's going to get infected." Ennis said nothing, just kept stroking the mare's neck. Liz was getting a cold feeling in her stomach. "I can put her down, if you don't want to do it."

"No," Ennis said. "I ain't puttin' her down."

"Her leg'll never be the same…"

"I don't care, Doc. I ain't puttin' her down." Liz was surprised to see Ennis blinking back tears. "She's my daughter's favorite horse, and I cain't make that kinda call without talkin' to her. She's comin' up this weekend. You just heal her up as best you can, and leave the rest to me, okay?"

Dr. McGill sighed. "Okay, if that's what you want."

Liz watched as the doctor set the mare's leg, applying some herby-smelling poultices and wrapping it tightly. He straighened up and picked up his bag. "I'll come by day after tomorrow and check on her."

They walked out of the stable. "Wanna stay for lunch then, Doc?" Ennis asked.

"Can't. I gotta go over to Myron's. His pigs are having some…well, digestive troubles."

Ennis chuckled. "Wear a rain slicker."

"Yeah." They'd reached the dooryard. The vet stopped and faced her. "Nice to meet you, Ms. Forbes. Good luck on your story. I'll hope to see you at the fair this weekend. You can meet Roger, my partner." He grinned at her surprised expression, then shook Ennis's hand. "Say hi to Jack."

"Will do. See ya, Doc."

Liz waited until the doctor had gotten into his truck and drove off towards the road before turning on Ennis. "Ennis! Why didn't you tell me he was gay?"

He shrugged. "Doc? He ain't gay."

"But…he just said…his partner, Roger!"

"Oh, yeah. They moved up from Boston 'bout three years back so's Paul could take over old Doc Robicheaux's practice. Roger's a lawyer. Real nice fella. Helped us with some trouble we had with one of our distributors. But they ain't queer, or nothin'. They're like me 'n Jack. Regular folks."

Liz crossed her arms over her chest, peering at Ennis with burgeoning comprehension. "Ennis…what do you think of when you think of a gay man?"

"I try not to, Lizzie."

"Answer the question."

He shuffled his feet, shoving his hands in his pockets. "Aw, you know. Wearin' makeup, and sparkly clothes, and….talkin' all girly…dammit, you know what I mean! Sissies!"

Liz had so many things to say she couldn't think where to start. "You do know that not all gay men are like that, don't you? Look at yourself, for crying out loud!"

"Dammit, why's it all gotta be about what to call folks?" he exclaimed. "Why you gotta put a damned label on everbody? When we was married to women we was straight, but now we're with each other we're gay or queer or homosexual or whatever. Why's it gotta be like that? Ain't it enough just to say that I'm spendin' my life with Jack 'cause he's my fella and I chose him, and all that means is just exactly that! Why's it gotta mean that now I fit in some box with a bunch of other fellas that I got nothin' else in common with 'cept that we all share our beds with men?"

Liz sighed. "That's a real good question, Ennis. But I'm starting to see that while I'm writing this story to challenge people's preconceptions, you've got quite a few of your own, don't you?"

Ennis looked tired, as if his outburst had exhausted him. "Everybody makes up their minds too quick 'bout other folks. I guess I ain't no different."

"Maybe once my ranch holiday is over, you and Jack might consider coming with me on a little trip to the city."

"The city…what, New York?"

"You ever been there?"

"I go to Burlington once a month, that's all the city I care to see."

Liz grinned. "You're giving me evil ideas, Ennis Del Mar."

"Yeah, I c'n tell. The look on your face is makin' me want to run for the hills."


	4. Chapter 4

_June, 1977_

If someone had ever told Jack Twist that he'd be ecstatic to be doing bookkeeping and accounting, he'd've told them they were crazy. But here he was, grinning like a fool over the ranch's books and ledgers and humming a tune that had no melody and only one line of lyrics, all the words of which were "Fuck You, L.D. Newsome."

Ennis came in and leaned hipshot in the doorway, arms crossed, wearing that sideways grin that always did Jack right in. "What's the news, rodeo?"

Jack's grin spread wider. "Friend, the news is damned fine, if I do say so myself."

"Tell me."

"We are officially in the black after exactly one year in business. You know how hard that is? And if we keep goin' on like this, we are gonna see one helluva profit this year, 'specially if we c'n get Joey out to stud a few more times." Jack took a moment to savor it. "Ennis, we are gonna be rich men in a few short years."

"Well, you're right. That is damned fine news." Ennis seemed preoccupied. He looked fidgety, and he wasn't quite meeting Jack's eyes.

"Ennis...what's with you? Somethin' wrong?"

"Naw. Nothin's wrong, that's the whole thing." He fetched a deep, resigned sigh and came into the office. He pulled up a chair facing Jack's and sat down. "I gotta talk to you, Jack."

That didn't sound good at _all._ "Oh God...what is it?"

"Oh no no, it ain't nothin' bad," Ennis said, quickly. "I didn't mean...I'm sorry. I'm just kinda nervous."

"Nervous? Of what?"

"I got you somethin'," Ennis said in a rush, like he was in a big-ass hurry to get the words out of his mouth. He reached into his pocket and pulled out a wad of blue cloth. Looked like chamois, like you'd use to oil your saddle. He handed it to Jack, looking everywhere but at him.

Puzzled, Jack took the cloth and unwound it. He could feel Ennis's eyes on him, and he knew he was waiting for a reaction, but Jack was too stunned to give him one.

In his hand he held a ring. It was hammered silver and cut with a pattern that made it look like rope. It was beautiful. "Wh..." His voice broke. He cleared his throat and started again. "What's this?" He looked up at Ennis, who had his head bowed down, sneaking quick glances at Jack's face from underneath his eyelashes.

"I, uh...well, seein's fellas cain't get hitched...I jus' thought...oh, gimme that," he said, snatching the ring back. He turned it over and over in his hands, and seemed grateful for something to look at while he spoke his piece. "Look, when we came out here we didn't much know if it'd work at all," he said. "I mean...ranch mighta gone bust. Mighta run outta money. Hell, weren't even sure if'n we could stand each other for more'n a week at a time." Jack nodded ruefully. "But it's two years now...ranch is doing good...and we c'n more'n stand each other, so..." He took a deep breath and looked up, meeting Jack's gaze squarely. "I was brought up to think that you don't take up the yoke with someone for too long without makin' no promises, so I thought it might be time for some kinda...somethin'."

His discomfiture was so endearing that Jack feared he might burst into tears and ruin the moment. "You practice that speech all day, didja?"

Ennis rolled his eyes. "Fuck, Jack, don't make fun 'o me. You know this ain't easy for me."

"I know, I know," Jack said, reaching out to touch Ennis's knee. "Just the fact that you're tryin'...well, it's real special."

Ennis tried to smile, and about half-succeeded. "I wanted to give you this so's you'd know that...well, that I'm in." He looked up at Jack and got that smile on the rest of the way. "I'm in it for good." He gave a sharp nod, as if to put a capper on his statement. "So...that's that, then." He held the ring out again. Jack took it, hoping Ennis couldn't see his fingers shaking.

"Yeah...that's that, I guess."

Ennis was examining his fingers, his eyes downcast. He spoke again, quietly. "You gotta know that I'm...I'm real happy, Jack." He risked a quick glance up at him. "Didn't know I had it in me. Didn't know it happened for folks like me. Just scrapin' by, barely anyone inna world gave a damn 'bout me, nothing to look forward to...then you come along, and...now it's all..." He lowered his head again, shaking it slowly back and forth, and Jack realized that he was trying not to cry.

Jack reached out, grabbed the seat of Ennis's chair and pulled him closer. Ennis grabbed ahold of both Jack's hands and gripped them tight, like he was afraid he'd fly apart if he didn't hang on. He kneaded them nervously for a moment, then looked up at him. "I ain't no kinda man for not saying these things afore now," he said, and his voice sounded surer and clearer. "You always been real good to me, and told me jus' what was in your head, and here I been the whole time, actin' like I had one foot out the door."

Jack nodded. "I didn't wanna push you none. I know you gotta take your time, and come 'round on your own."

"Take my time, yeah. It's time for me to do right by you." He let go with one hand and lifted it up to Jack's neck, sliding it around to the back of his head. Ennis sighed. "I love you," he said, putting emphasis on the words. Jack's breath caught in his chest - Ennis had never said that to him before. It had been implied and demonstrated, but never said out loud. "I ain't never loved nobody else _but_ you. And I want it to be like this for always, y'hear?"

Jack nodded, speechless. He felt something uncoiling in his chest, something that had been wound tight for years and years...since 1963, as a matter of fact. "Okay," he managed to croak.

Ennis cocked an eyebrow, a smirk curling his lips. "'Okay?'" he said. "That's all you got to say? I'm pouring my damn heart out here, rodeo. Y'might say I'm feelin' kinda vulnerable, and all I get from my man is 'okay?'"

Jack laughed, the tension broken. "What's there to say that you don't already know, Ennis?"

Ennis shrugged, looking a little insecure. "Y'might set my mind at ease that you're in this with me. For the long haul."

Jack smiled, and stood up. He went over to the locked filing cabinet, opened it, and pulled out a folder. "Just so happens that I got somethin' for you, too," he said, returning to his chair.

Ennis frowned. "What's this?" he said, taking the legal papers Jack handed him.

"It's a power of attorney agreement. It says what's yours is mine, and what's mine is yours, and that we're next 'o kin for each other. It says that you make my decisions if I cain't, and vice versa." Ennis looked up at him, his eyes shining. "It's a legal way 'o sayin' that we're each other's most important person," Jack finished. "So you tell _me_ if'n I'm in it for the long haul with you."

Ennis nodded. "Damn...that's almost like gettin' hitched, ain't it?"

"Pretty much, 'cept for the 'I do's.'"

Ennis picked up a pen and flipped to the last page. His hand hesitated over the signature line. "Then, I guess...I do," he said, and signed his name. He handed over the pen.

"Me, too," Jack said, and signed his name on the other line. He flipped the document closed. "I guess there's just one thing left to do."

"What's that?"

Jack picked up the ring. "You gonna put this on me, or what?"

Ennis laughed. "You want me to? You wouldn't, uh...feel too much like the bride here?"

Jack flapped a hand. "As long's I get to keep my dick, it don't matter."

Ennis took the ring. "Well, I sure as hell hope you do." He took a deep breath and quickly shoved the ring onto Jack's left ring finger, sitting back at once like he was glad to have it done with. "Whew! That was...a bit weird, I don't mind sayin'."

"Yeah, a bit." Jack smirked. "But a'course, now you get to kiss the...uh, the...uh..." He rolled his eyes. "Aw, hell." He grabbed Ennis's hand and pulled him to his feet, dragging him out of the office and through the living room. "Screw the kissin'. Let's go straight to the weddin' night."

* * *

Liz laughed as Jack finished the story. She'd asked to hear more about what he'd alluded to the day before, namely that Ennis had taken two years to tell Jack he loved him, without any idea that she'd be hearing about the day the two men made their commitment to each other. "That's..." She'd been about to say "priceless," but the word didn't seem to cover it. "That's beautiful," she finally said.

Jack nodded. "I've had some days in my time, but I gotta point to that one as the happiest one so far," he added.

"Can I see the ring?" Jack held out his hand. "It's lovely." It looked appropriate on his finger, like it belonged there. "But Ennis doesn't wear one."

"Naw, he cain't stand to have nothin' on his hands. Besides, for us to wear some kinda matchin' rings...I dunno. Seems like pretendin' to somethin' we cain't never have. Don't matter to me, anyhow. It ain't the jewelry that's important, is it?"

"You've answered one question that I'd meant to ask, though."

"What's that?"

"If you had power of attorney."

"Oh, yeah. We own this place jointly, we got life insurance on each other...hell, we're about as intertwined as two people c'n be without bein' hitched."

Liz pursed her lips. "I didn't think any states allowed domestic partners to take life insurance on each other yet."

"They don't, but the law requires it for business partners." Jack made a face. "What the hell's that, 'domestic partners?' Sounds like cleanin' ladies teamin' up to do a big job."

Liz laughed. "Yeah, it doesn't sound too romantic, does it? That's the term some companies are using for people who live together but aren't married. It's mostly used for gay couples, but it can be used for co-habiting straight couples, too."

"Why would companies need a term for that?"

"For health insurance. There are few...a _very_ few...forward-thinking companies that are extending their employees' health insurance to their domestic partners. Most of them are taking a lot of flak for it."

"Damn," Jack said, impressed. "That'd be a real step, wouldn't it?" He shook his head. "Health insurance is a bitch. We pay through the nose for it, not just for ourselves but for all the hands. You don't wanna know what it costs, given the risks on this job."

They were sitting on the back porch, enjoying the sunset and a few cold ones. Ennis was still out in the paddocks. Liz examined Jack's profile. It was a strong one, with a square jaw and deep-set eyes. He was handsome, they both were, but Jack had a kind of sensitivity about him that Ennis lacked. She leaned in a little. "Oh, Jack...you got a little something..." She reached out and brushed at his neck. "Wait, it's not..." She cocked her head. "Jack Twist, is this a _hickey_?"

Jack colored and touched his neck. "Oh. I, uh...I s'pose it's a..." He sighed and rolled his eyes. "God, cain't a man get a little frisky without it becomin' a point of conversation for the whole damned neighborhood?" Liz was laughing helplessly. Jack stuck his tongue out at her. "Sure, go ahead'n laugh! Like you never had a hickey 'afore. And don't you go puttin' this in your little article there, missy!" By now he was laughing, too.

Ennis came up the deck stairs from the yard, his steps heavy and tired. He took off his hat and swiped one arm across his sweaty brow, frowning at them as they cackled in their respective deck chairs. "What'd hell's this, now?" he said, sounding irritated.

"Oh, nothin," Jack said, gasping for breath. Ennis headed into the house. "Just you brandin' me like I'm your damned personal property. Naw, you go on ahead, never you mind...Christ, Ennis, you been smokin', ain't you! Don't gimme that innocent look, I c'n smell it!" He got up and followed Ennis into the house, the sound of their bickering fading away, leaving Liz chuckling to herself on the porch, a cold beer in her hand, the sun painting the entire horizon purple and orange.

_Can I live here_? she thought, and not for the first time.

* * *

They stood in front of the pantry, gazing at the supper options. "Please, God, no more chili," Jack said.

"Then _you_ cook, if'n you're so high 'n mighty!" Ennis snapped.

"Cain't you cook?" Jack said to Liz, his tone plaintive.

"What, just because I'm a woman that means I can cook?"

"Well...yeah!"

"I eat out. A lot."

Ennis sighed. "Fuck it. I'm callin' Fred and Arlene. She said we could come over any night this week...Fred caught a mess 'o walleyes up at the lake last weekend."

Ten minutes later, Liz was sandwiched between them on the front seat of Ennis's pickup. "Uh...why didn't we take the car with the backseat?" she asked.

Ennis snorted. "Damn, Liz, that is a real good question. Whyn't you tell her, Jack, why we ain't takin' the car with the backseat? Explain to the lady why she's sittin' here with your bony-ass hip stickin' into her side." Jack gave no indication of responding, he just sat with his arms crossed and glared at Ennis over her head. It didn't seem to matter, Ennis went right on ahead without his say-so. "See, Jack fancies himself a big-time rancher, so now he figures he oughta have a nicer car, 'cause pickups ain't high-falutin' enough for high-rollers like him, right? So he buys this car...what is it, rodeo?"

"It's a damn Mercedes, and shut up."

"Like hell. Lady asked a question. You see how he talks to me?" he said, _sotto voce_ into Liz's ear. She giggled. She would not have believed Ennis capable of such playful spirits, although Jack didn't seem terribly amused. "Anyhow, he buys this Mercedes, but what color does he buy? Black. With gray insides. Didja happen to notice where we live? On a ranch, with a fuckin' gravel drive. Ever' time he drives that car it looks like he drove it through a dust storm. And he's so petrified of gettin' the insides dirty with his muddy boots that he won't even get behind the wheel. So there it sits, takin' up space and depreciatin' by the day."

Jack harrumphed. "I'm keepin' up its resale value."

Ennis laughed. "Aw, that's rich. This is some bullshit we're hearin' now, Lizzie."

Jack shot Ennis a look. "Once the drive gets paved, then you'll see."

"Christ, Jack, get the damn car dirty already. Hose it down afterwards, if'n the dust troubles you so much. You earned it, you ought to take it out." Jack sighed, but said nothing. Ennis leaned close again, speaking confidentially. "See, that ain't the reason he won't drive it. Truth is, he don't like it...but you'll never get him to admit it."

"I look like an asshole from the everlovin' Rotary Club in that goddamned thing!" Jack suddenly exclaimed. "Ever' time I drive it, I feel like fuckin' L.D. Newsome!" He slumped down, letting his head fall back against the headrest. "Shit, Ennis. Whyn't I listen t'you?"

"'Cause you're an idiot."

"Oh, yeah. Musta slipped my mind." He turned his head and smirked across the back of the seat. Liz turned in time to see Ennis smile back and drop a wink.

* * *

Jack had told her before they left that Fred and Arlene Trimble, their friends and dinner hosts, owned a salvage yard on the far side of town. When she'd heard "salvage yard," Liz had feared the worst...but the Trimble home was a neat two-story Colonial with an enormous backyard. The salvage yard itself was a hundred yards away, neatly tucked away behind aluminum-slat fencing. Fred grilled the fish on their slate patio, which featured an outdoor kitchen sheltered under the porch overhand, and they ate at a teakwood table. Between the success of their own operation, their friendship with the mayor and the apparent affluency of their friends, Liz was getting the impression that Ennis and Jack were among Farmingdale's more prominent citizens. Their social circle certainly seemed to be drawn from the town's elite. She wondered how that sat with them; she knew they'd both grown up dirt poor, although Jack had gotten a taste of more comfortable living when he'd been married to Lureen.

Fred and Arlene were pleasant and friendly. They welcomed her amicably and asked the appropriate questions, but stopped short of prying into her current writing assignment. "Where's Jimmy?" Jack asked, soon after they arrived.

"Oh, he's with his grandma tonight. She'll be bringing him home after supper sometime," Arlene said.

Liz turned to Ennis for the backstory. "That's their little boy. He's five," Ennis explained in a low voice. "Cutest little fella y'ever did see. Thinks Jack's the greatest thing since Superman." He chuckled. "Jack's real good with kids. Sometimes I wish he weren't," he said, giving Liz a significant look.

"Why not?"

Ennis sighed. "Some folks don't know no better think that sleepin' with men means sleepin' with little boys," he said, his distaste for the idea evident on his face. "I worry that someone'll accuse him 'o somethin'."

Liz felt her skin crawl at the idea. "God, I never thought of that."

"It's a damn shame that anyone has to think of such things." He saw her worried face and patted her back. "Don't you worry none. Jack's a smart fella, 'cept when it comes to car-buyin'. He ain't gonna put himself in no position like that."

Dinner was a jolly affair. Fred kept opening wine, and before too long Liz felt her head swimming a little bit. "So," Fred asked her, after the food was eaten. "What'd you think of our little community?"

"It's like heaven," Liz sighed.

"Yeah, well you ain't smelled the ranch in August yet," Jack said, grinning.

"It's a nice spread, isn't it?" Arlene said. "It's amazing what these boys have done with it. Before they bought it, it never turned a profit or did the town any good. You know how much business that ranch has brought here?"

Liz leaned forward, keenly interested, even while Jack and Ennis looked embarrassed at the praise. "No, how much?"

"Lots. You don't see that many cattle operations around here. Not enough open space, not like out West. Dairy farms gotta get their head and their studs from somewhere, and it sure costs a lot less to get them from Brokeback than to ship 'em in from Texas. That ranch put this town on a lot of maps. We've gotten a half-dozen new businesses springin' up, just because they saw the town while doin' business with these boys, and saw that there was space to be had for cheap and low local taxes."

Liz nodded. It was no wonder the town tolerated Jack and Ennis's lifestyle, if they were bringing in that much money. It was a cynical explanation and a less satisfying one than simple open-mindedness, but one that couldn't be ignored.

"She is exaggeratin'," Jack said, shooting Arlene a look.

"I beg your pardon, but I am not!" she said, slapping at Jack's arm. "You boys are too modest by half, I always say."

The door into the house opened, and a little boy came running out. Ennis was right, he was adorable. Curly black hair and dark eyes, just like his mother. "Jacky!" he cried in delight, running across to Jack, who stood and scooped him up.

"Jimbo! My God, what you been eatin', boy? You're _enormous_!" He seized the boy and tried to bench-press him over his head. "See, I cain't even lift you! Oh no...you're jus' too big!" Little Jimmy cackled with laughter as Jack upended him and dangled him by his feet.

Liz wondered if this town was too good to be true. Here she sat, laughing with a group of friends in the backyard of a charming homestead, having just eaten freshly-caught fish under the night sky, crowded with more stars than she'd ever known existed.

She saw the door open again, and an older women emerge. Must be Jimmy's grandmother, she thought. The woman walked forward, then stopped. Her mouth dropped open in horror. "Jimmy!" she exclaimed, as if she'd just seen him playing with matches. Everyone fell silent...except Jimmy, who kept giggling, oblivious.

Liz felt Ennis tense up next to her. Jack put Jimmy down just in time for his grandmother to rush over and seize him, glaring at Jack. "Mom, what's wrong?" Arlene said, frowning. "He wouldn't have dropped him..." Liz bit her lip, her good feelings of just five seconds ago gone as if they'd never existed.

Grandma backed away with Jimmy to the porch, then set him down. "Jimmy, go on up to your room."

"But...I wanna play with Jacky..."

"Go on, now," she said, and Jimmy complied. She turned back, pasting on a strained smile. "Sorry to interrupt," she said. "I'll put Jimmy to bed. You folks have a nice chat, now." She started to go into the house.

"Mom, what's going on?" Arlene demanded.

Grandma sighed, as if she regretted being forced into speaking the words. "I just don't think it's appropriate for Jimmy to be playing with that man," she said.

Jack sat down heavily, his face going blank. Liz saw the muscles in Ennis's jaw standing out like walnuts, his eyes narrowed to deadly little points. "Mother," Arlene said, her voice tight. "Jack is our _friend_. Jimmy loves him!"

"Does he, now," Grandma said, managing to make even this innocent statement sound somehow perverted. "I'm sure your friends are perfectly nice, but I can't help it. I just don't think Jimmy needs to associate with that sort."

Ennis stood up. "What sort is that, ma'am?" he said. His voice was very quiet and calm, but the veins in his temples were throbbing.

Jack grasped his arm. "Ennis, it's all right."

"No, Jack. I mean to hear what 'sort' you are."

Grandma drew herself up. "You know perfectly well what sort I mean, Mr. Del Mar. Maybe I'm just old-fashioned, I guess I can't help it, but in my day folks knew to keep their kids away from deviants." She said this as if it were common knowledge, which Liz supposed it had once been...or perhaps still was.

Liz saw Ennis flinch and his hands clench into fists; Jack's hand tightened on his arm until his knuckles were white. Fred stood up, holding out a hand towards Ennis as if to warn him off. He turned to his mother-in-law. "Agnes, I won't have you coming into our house and insulting our friends."

"Fine," she said. "If my opinion isn't worth anything, you shouldn't have asked for it." She turned to leave.

Jack stood up. "Ma'am, wait," he said. Agnes paused and turned back. "You oughta know that I'd never hurt Jimmy, and I'd thrash anyone who did to within an inch of their miserable life."

She nodded. "Of course you'd say that, Mr. Twist. But look at how you live," she said, glancing at Ennis. "It's easy to see how little it matters to you to lead a decent life." She turned away and left through the house.

Liz felt ill. It was as if all the air had been sucked out of the backyard. Ennis looked mad enough to chew nails, and Jack looked heartbroken. Arlene's mouth was opening and closing. "Ennis...Jack..." she spluttered. "You know she doesn't speak for us."

"She spoke well enough for herself, though," Ennis said.

"I'm so sorry," Fred said, sitting down again. "I had no idea she felt that way. She's never said anything against you, not a word."

"Not till she saw me with Jimmy," Jack said, his voice hoarse.

"I trust you with Jimmy just as much as anyone in the world, including her!" Arlene exclaimed. "You'd never hurt him!"

"Of course not!" Jack cried, stricken.

Ennis picked up his hat. "Fred, Arlene...thanks for the supper, but I think we'd better get on home."

"Oh no, stay. Play some poker, it just wouldn't be the same if you didn't," Arlene said.

Ennis sighed. "I'd say we already lost any chance of it bein' the same," he said.

Liz bid their hosts hasty goodbyes and trailed along after Ennis and Jack, feeling torturously conspicuous and intrusive. Jack had his hands shoved into his pockets; Ennis walked with one hand on the back of Jack's neck. They got into the truck, Liz squashed into the middle again, and Ennis pulled back onto the highway.

He drove in silence for a few miles, then suddenly slammed his fist into the steering wheel. Liz and Jack both jumped. "Fuck!" he grunted.

Jack sighed and stared out the window. "Let it go, Ennis," he said.

"That ain't right," Ennis said. "I'm powerful sorry, darlin'," he said. Liz spared a brief second to marvel that Ennis had just called Jack "darlin" in front of her.

Jack shook his head. "It happens."

She looked up at Ennis. "Does that kind of thing happen...a lot?"

Ennis's jaw was clenching again. "Once in awhile. Maybe twice a year. It's always a surprise, and you never get used to it." He growled in anger again. "Fuck, as if you were some kinda pervert who'd mess with that child! I'd half a mind to..." He trailed off. "Ain't right," he repeated.

"No, it ain't," Jack said. "But it's our lot and we gotta stand it."

"Not if we can fix it," Ennis said. "Mayhap Lizzie here can help us do that, with this story she's gonna write. Right, Lizzie?"

Liz crossed her arms, feeling the resolve of purpose stiffening her spine. "Damn fuckin' straight," she said.


	5. Chapter 5

There were lots of things Jack was grateful for. He had a life with the man he loved. Their ranch was successful. Their families were healthy and reasonably happy. The locals were friendly and accepting...for the most part. All of these things were very important. But one of the things that he was most grateful for on a purely practical level was the fact that Ennis didn't snore. 

This meant that when he couldn't sleep, like now, he could sit up in bed and read without having to stuff his ears with cotton to block out the chainsaws. He glanced over at Ennis, asleep on his side facing away from him, and the only sound was the blessedly quiet, steady whoosh and draw of his breath. The light from Jack's small bedside reading lamp fell across the pages of his book, which he wasn't having too much luck reading. He'd been staring at the same page for half an hour, re-reading the same few lines over and over without any of the words sinking into his brain. He kept seeing that woman's face, and hearing the shock and fear in her voice when she shouted for Jimmy to come away. Fear of _him_. Fear that he'd do something to Jimmy, something that he couldn't even stand to hold in his mind. And that look in her eyes...like he and Ennis were an offense to the very air and the sun and the stars, and just by breathing they were somehow upsetting the balance of nature.

He sighed and put his book aside, sliding down and drawing the covers up to his chest. He looked over at the back of Ennis's head again, a black cancer of shame and anger creeping into his mind. He couldn't wrap his head around the fact that something he held so precious, something that made him so happy, could be so horrible and threatening to anybody. How could people think so different when their brains were all pretty much the same?

Ennis's breathing hitched. His head rolled toward him a little. "Jack?" he mumbled, his voice thick with sleep. "You 'wake?"

"Is the light botherin' you?"

"Y'okay?" he said, rubbing at his face with one hand like a little kid.

"Couldn't sleep."

Ennis rolled over, eyes still shut, and curled into Jack's side, tucking his head down on his chest and throwing one arm across Jack's body. Jack smiled and let his arm drape itself around Ennis's shoulders. Though he'd come a long way, Ennis was still at his most affectionate when he was in some stage of being asleep and didn't quite recall that tough and manly fellas like himself weren't supposed to like to cuddle. "Go t'sleep," Ennis mumbled.

Jack was tempted to keep quiet just so Ennis could go back to sleep, but that wasn't fair. If he couldn't sleep, Ennis could damn well wake up too and keep him company. "I cain't," he said. "I jus'...I keep hearin' what she said."

He felt some waking tension come into Ennis's muscles. "I know," he said.

"Jus' when I'm startin' to really relax..."

"I know," Ennis repeated. "But you know, mos' folks don't think that."

"How d'we know what they think? We only know what they say 'n do. Maybe they all feel like that and they're jus' bein' polite. I mean, I think Myrtle Mayfield is a stupid cow, but I tip my hat 'n say howdy jus' the same."

"Your mamma didn't raise no fools. Myrtle could kill someone with that giant purse 'o hers."

Jack felt a smile spreading slow across his face. "Ain't that the truth," he said, chuckling.

Ennis turned his head and kissed Jack's chest, then propped up on one elbow and looked down at him. "We cain't never know what folks think," he said. "And it don't matter. All's matters is how they treat us, and what they say. If they're civil, and treat us like everone else, what's it matter if they hate us inside?"

Jack sighed. "'Cause hate cain't never stay on the inside," he said. "It likes t'come out 'n make trouble."

"You think too much. What happen'd to that fella I used t'know, the one who always said we c'd get a place together 'n live a sweet life? Now we got it, 'n yer all gloom 'n doom."

"I guess that fella'd never had nobody tell 'im to his face that he was some kinda child molester."

Ennis sobered. "I ain't never hit no woman, but damn if'n I didn't wanna..."

"Shush, now. It ain't worth worryin' over."

"Yeah, 'cause that's why yer sittin' awake at three fuckin' a.m., 'cause it ain't worth worryin' over."

Jack looked up at Ennis's face, stubbly and angular, his eyes dark in the half-light. He reached up with one hand, drew his head down and kissed him, making it last until Ennis relaxed into it. "Wanna take my mind off it, cowboy?" Jack whispered.

He felt Ennis smile against his own lips. "Don't gotta ask me twice," he murmured, pulling Jack close.

* * *

Jack pulled on his rattiest jeans and a paint-stained t-shirt. It was just barely morning; the light still had that pinkish-gray color that bore no warmth. He leaned over Ennis, sprawled out on his back asleep. "I'm gonna go work on them brambles down by the river 'afore it gets too hot," he whispered.

"Nnnngh," Ennis grunted, one hand twitching.

"Don't stir yerself, it's early yet. I'm squirrely. Gotta do somethin'."

Another noncommittal grunt. Jack patted Ennis's leg and left him be. He picked up his thickest gloves from the mudroom, a hacksaw and some hedge clippers from the shed, and headed down to the riverbank. "Well, fuck me sideways," he cursed, staring at the mess that they'd been putting off dealing with for weeks now.

The riverbank below the house was a mess of scrub, brambles and couple of fallen trees. They could have a real nice place to set up a bigger firepit and maybe a barbecue if it weren't so beat to hell. Jack felt like tearing the living shit out of something just now, so this seemed like a good project. He slapped his oldest hat on his head, pulled on the elbow-length work gloves, and set to.

* * *

Liz brought her coffee out to the back porch, where Ennis was already set up by the railing, staring out towards the river. She came padding up behind him, wondering what he was looking at.

Down by the water's edge, Jack was attacking some scrubby bushes and old logs that were cluttering up the riverbank. The sun was climbing in the sky and he'd taken off his shirt, exposing an attractively muscled chest. Liz smiled to herself. Ennis hadn't even noticed her presence. "Enjoying the scenery?" she said.

He jumped, almost spilling his coffee. "Oh, uh...mornin', Lizzie," he spluttered, color slamming into his face. "Naw, I was just...uh...I mean t'say, I was just watchin' t'see that he minds them trees and don't accidentally..." Abruptly, he turned back toward the river. "Jack!" he yelled. "Careful 'o that there...uh...that spruce tree, now!"

Jack paused and looked around. He was too far away to read his expression, but his posture gave away his confusion. "The hell, Ennis? I ain't anywhere near that tree!" he yelled back. "Shut up 'n lemme work!"

Ennis turned his back to the yard, fiddling with his coffee cup and his empty breakfast plate, muttering to himself. It took a truly heroic effort on Liz's part not to laugh at his embarrassment to have been caught out appreciating Jack's physique. She sat down on the other side of the table. "Calm down, Ennis. You're allowed to _look_, you know."

He shook his head. "Ain't nothin'. Jus'...takin' in the mornin' sunshine, is all."

"If you say so." She peered over the railing toward the river, grinning. "It certainly is an attractive view you've got here."

Ennis sighed, as if her impertinence exhausted him. "Hardy har har." He kicked his feet up on an empty chair. "You laugh all you want, Lizzie. I'm just gonna sit here and mind my business. I c'n do that, 'cause I get to wake up to that view ever day," he said, the ghost of a smirk twisting his lips.

Liz gaped at him. Had _Ennis_ just made a mildly suggestive smartass remark to her? She did believe he had. He cast her a sidelong glance, and she saw the mischievous twinkle in his eye. She burst out laughing. "Ennis Del Mar, you are a devil."

"No, ma'am, I'm an upstanding citizen. Ask anyone."

They fell into a comfortable silence for a few minutes. Liz tucked her legs up underneath her in the wicker deck chair and sipped her coffee, watching the stock wander around the near paddock and pretending not to notice Ennis sneaking glances at Jack out of the corner of his eye. "What do you call him?" she finally asked, breaking the long pause.

Ennis frowned. "Huh?"

"I mean, how do you refer to each other? Do you call him your partner?"

"Business partner?"

"No, I mean..." She took another tack. "What term do you prefer? Longtime companion? That one seems the favorite lately."

Ennis shrugged. "Mostly I jus' call him Jack."

"But if you're meeting someone new, and you say 'This is Jack Twist, he's my...' What word do you put there?"

"Cain't say's I do."

"You must say _something!_"

"Why'd I ever wanna introduce him like that? He c'n speak for himself."

"You're making this too complicated, Ennis."

"No, I think you are. Why's there gotta be some kinda special word? There ain't one that fits, is there? Doc McGill, he says 'partner,' like you say." He made a face. "I dunno, that don't sound right t'me, seein's Jack'd be my partner even if'n we had wives, 'cause we're partners in this place. There ain't no proper word, so I don't use one. Seems mos' folks we meet already know our livin' arrangements, so's there ain't no call for mentionin' it, and if'n they don't, then why bother?"

Liz had to concede the point. "I guess it is easier just to avoid it."

"I ain't avoiding nothin'. I just don't see the point 'o shovin' it in people's faces by bein' all 'Nice to meetcha, I'm Ennis and this is Jack, and we're kinda married 'cept not really 'cause that ain't happenin' so he's kinda my husband or maybe some word that don't exist yet, and ain't that confusin'?" Ennis said. Liz watched as he replayed his own words in his head, then flushed purple. "Shit, listen t'me," he muttered. "You're corruptin' me, city gal. Next thing y'know I'll be wearing the damn pink frills and makeup, too."

Liz smiled. "I'd pay money to see that, Ennis."

He smirked at her. "How much? I got my eye on a new saddle."

* * *

Liz got a chance to pose the same question to Jack when she rode into town with him later that afternoon. "Ennis didn't really have an answer for me," she said.

Jack snorted. "Yeah, I bet he didn't. Not that he'd ever need any kinda term for me. I do most 'o the talkin' when we're out among folks, 'specially strangers."

"What about you?"

"Well, he is right, there ain't no good word. I try'n avoid it, same as him, just 'cause it gets awkward. If'n I got no choice, I say 'partner.' If folks assume I mean business partner, then that's jus' fine." He hesitated. "I'll tell you somethin', though...long's you don't tell Ennis I said so." Liz nodded. "In my head, jus' to myself, I think of him as my husband." He sighed. "I know that ain't right, and it ain't legal or nothin', but...what else is he? We got a life together, all the trimmin's. House, cars, horses, business...hell, we share everthin'. Good stuff, bad stuff, everday stuff. If that ain't a marriage, what is it?"

Liz nodded. "It is, Jack."

"But it ain't got that say-so from no preacher, or no judge, so I keep that word just for myself. Ennis don't like it, he says it ain't truthful. I say it's the fact that we ain't allowed to use it that ain't truthful."

She watched Jack's profile as he drove, keeping his eyes on the road. "You know, in different circumstances, you could have been a hell of an activist. I can see you in the city, working for equal rights for gay men and women, telling whole crowds of people what you just told me, and maybe changing a few minds."

He grunted. "Mayhap so, Lizzie. Ennis...he jus' wants to be left alone. He jus' wants to protect us and our place and leave the rest 'o the world to rot if'n it wants to. I don't bring it up no more 'cause I got sick 'o fightin' 'bout it, but I'd rather speak out a bit more if'n I had my way. He jus' don't like to lump us in with other queer folks cause that ain't how he thinks of us. I keep tellin' him, it don't matter if you don't think we're queer like other guys are queer, the rest 'o the world sure's hell ain't gonna make that distinction, and if some crazy-ass politician passes some law sayin' anyone c'n shoot queers on sight, you think they gonna give us a pass just 'cause Ennis Del Mar don't think that word applies to him? All they gonna care 'bout is that we share a bed, and that's all they see or all they care to. They won't care if'n we're stand-up guys or cowboys or ranchers or good Christian fellas who help out in town whenever we can, none of that don't matter. We're men what love each other, and therefore we're gay. So I say it's our business what happens to other gay folks, even if we're not much like 'em." Liz just stared, wondering how she'd managed to unleash the dormant gay activist lurking inside Jack Twist. He shifted a little in the driver's seat. "Damn, I'm sorry, Liz. Kinda went off on a tear, didn't I?"

"That's okay, Jack. You're amazingly articulate."

"I've jus' thought about it a lot, is all. I guess I was jus' gettin' some stuff off my chest, stuff I cain't talk about with Ennis."

"You really should say some of these things to him."

"He won't hear it. He don't wanna." Jack sighed. "It's like he has this version of himself as he's always been, the way he was raised, the way he was when we met, and when he was married and had his girls. And now, he's exactly the same fella, same values, same opinions 'n attitudes...with just this tiny little difference, namely, who he sleeps with. I told him before, it might be a tiny little difference to you, and it might not've changed who you are as a person, but to other folks it's a giant, huge difference that turns you into somebody totally new, sometimes it's the difference between you being a good person and a bad person, and ain't nothin' you c'n do to change that 'cept maybe leave me." He hesitated. "Was a time I worried he'd do just that, but I don't worry 'bout that no more."

Liz nodded. "Well...you're allowed to have your own thoughts and opinions, you know, even if he doesn't agree."

"Oh, I know. He knows what I think. I know what he thinks. We cain't try 'n change each other, Lizzie. That ain't right." He smiled. "Enough heavy discussion. You said you had somethin' funny to tell me? Somethin' what happened this mornin'?"

* * *

Farmingdale was a small community, but bigger than a wide place in the road. Jack said the population was about 10,000, but there were a lot more people who thought of the town as home who weren't included in that number, because they lived further out on farms. The center of town was a quaint New England picture postcard that Liz had trouble believing wasn't contrived, complete with red churches and white steeples, diners with striped awnings, brick sidewalks and flags fluttering overhead.

Jack pulled up into a parking space on Hanover Street, the main drag. He pulled out a crumpled list of errands, his mouth moving as he pondered what to do first. Liz looked around, wishing she could see the place in autumn. "Are the winters bad here?" she asked.

Jack joined her on the sidewalk. "Are they ever. Folks stock their larders good. Me 'n Ennis were snowed in for two solid weeks once a few years back. Played a lot of double solitaire. C'mon, let's start at Doc McGill's." They headed up the sidewalk towards the veterinarian's office.

"How does the stock handle snow?" Liz asked.

Jack glanced at her, confused. "Uh...they walk over it, Lizzie. Don't trouble them none."

"Oh," Liz said, feeling out of her depth.

A tall, gray-haired man with a bit of a belly passed them. "Hey, Jack," he said, raising a hand to him.

Jack nodded back. "Howdy, Roy."

This was just the beginning. Jack was hailed by several people on the sidewalk, and from across the street, and from the windows of cars. "Damn, everybody knows you," Liz said.

"I'm easy to recognize, I guess. It's the hat," he said, smiling.

A small group of teenage boys were coming towards them. "Hey, Mattie," Jack said to one of them as they passed.

"Hi Jack!" the boy replied.

The group was almost past them when one of the boys bringing up the rear said "faggot." It was low, but loud enough to be heard. Liz flinched.

Jack didn't miss a beat. With an eyeroll of resignation, he reached out and grabbed the boy by the arm, spinning him around and sitting him down on a nearby bench. The boy's friends stopped and turned, but didn't seem to want to come any closer. Jack loomed over the boy. He didn't look angry, just irritated that he had to deal with _this_, of all things, when he had errands to run. "Now, now. What's a nice boy like you doin' sayin' an ugly word like that?" he said.

The boy was pale and looked terrified. "Uh...I don't know, sir."

"Oh, so it's 'sir' now, is it? Ain't that polite of you. Wasn't it you, or did I maybe imagine it, called me a faggot a second ago?" The boy said nothing. "Now you tell the truth, y'hear?"

The boy nodded, miserably. "Yes, sir. Sorry."

"You're sorry only 'cause I'm callin' you on it. What're you tryin' to do, impress your friends?" Jack turned and looked at the other boys. "You fellas impressed with your buddy's vocabulary? Think he's a big hero, do ya?" All of them shook their heads with such enthusiasm that Liz was afraid one of them would sprain something. "See there? They don't think you're so smart. Now, why'd you wanna go callin' me a faggot, and in front of this nice lady, too?"

"I...I don't know, Mr. Twist."

"The thing is...what's your name, anyhow?"

"Danny Klawitter, sir."

"The thing is, Danny...I c'n say 'faggot' if'n I want to, because I _am_ a faggot, even though that word is ugly 'n demeanin'. But when you use it, you do it to insult me and make yourself feel bigger 'n more important. See how that works?" Jack leaned a little closer. "Or maybe you say it 'cause you're jus' a little bit curious 'bout it. Is that it?" Liz could hear Danny's buddies snickering. "Or maybe it's just that I make you uncomfortable. If that's the case, that's okay. You c'n be uncomfortable if'n you want, I can't help that. But that ain't my fault, and it ain't my problem, so you just keep your ignorant tongue in yer mouth, y'hear me, boy?" Jack's conversational, we're-just-fellas-here tone took a turn into sternness on the last sentence.

Danny nodded furiously. "Yessir, I will."

"Good. Go on, now, get outta here." Danny jumped up and rejoined his friends. "Oh, and Danny?" The boy turned warily. "When I see your daddy at the fair this weekend, mayhap I'll just mention to him that his boy's been goin' around saying things he sure's hell didn't learn to say at home. I'm sure he'll be real interested t'hear all about it." Danny seemed to shrink right into his shoes at this. Jack grinned as they slunk away, and Liz fell into pace next to him as they resumed their course up the street.

She gazed up at Jack with frank admiration. "You're my new hero, Jack."

He shrugged. "I'm bigger'n him. I mighta thunk twice if it were one of them big three hunnert pound road-crew hogs callin' me a faggot."

"Still...I don't know if I could confront someone, even a kid, who'd called me a bad name."

"Lizzie, when folks call you names, they're countin' on you bein' too ashamed or humiliated to do anythin' about it. They're assumin' that I feel 'bout myself the way they feel 'bout me. But I ain't ashamed, and I ain't gonna let no one get away with it. And that there's one boy who'll think twice 'afore he says somethin' rude to somebody else."

Liz grinned. "Well done, rodeo."

Jack's smile slipped a bit. "Thanks, sweet pea, but...you mind not callin' me that?"

She flushed, embarrassed. "Oh. I'm sorry."

"Oh, it ain't no big thing, it's just...well, Ennis calls me that. It's just for him."

"I see. I am sorry, Jack."

"Don't worry yourself none, you didn't know. Well, now that we've wasted all this time, let's get this crap done before Ennis starts thinkin' we run off together."

* * *

They got home just before supper. Liz carried a few shopping bags full of clothes for herself...it had just seemed easier to buy some new jeans and shirts than to have her husband bring or ship her more of her own. On her head she was wearing a hat of Ennis's that had been at the repair shop. It was so large that it came down over her ears, and Jack couldn't seem to stop chuckling over how silly it looked.

Ennis met her on the porch and took her bags and his hat. "I cain't say that style becomes you," he said with a half-smile.

Jack dropped his other packages in the kitchen and raced to the bathroom. Liz turned to Ennis, because she just had to get this in as soon as possible. "Ennis, I don't know why I'm saying this, but after spending the afternoon with Jack...well, I'm so impressed by how intelligent and articulate he is."

Ennis met her gaze calmly. "Yes, ma'am, he is all those things, and some others that you're too polite to mention." He smiled. "He spend all that time favorin' you with his opinions, did he?"

"The things he said to me would not have been out of place on the floor of the Senate."

"I know he's a smart fella, Lizzie, I reckon I know it better'n you do. Times I wonder what the hell he's doin' with me. 'Specially when we don't see eye to eye on lots of those things I'm sure you was discussin'."

"He's given up even talking to you about it. Says he's tired of fighting."

"Now, that gives me pause," Ennis said. "I don't like to think he's keepin' quiet on my account. But he ain't wrong that we've fought over it."

Jack came out of the bathroom at that moment, cutting off their discussion. "What're we doin' for dinner?" he said, looking apprehensive.

"Don't worry yourself none," Ennis said. "Fred and Arlene are coming over. She's gonna cook dinner for everbody."

"Think they're feelin' guilty 'bout last night?"

"That'd be my guess. But I ain't gonna look a gift supper in the mouth."

* * *

The poker game lay forgotten on the table. Liz, Arlene and Fred were laughing hysterically while Jack sat listening with a shamefaced grin. Ennis just sat with his arms crossed on the table, rolling his eyes periodically. "So Ennis says...he says..." Fred gathered his composure. "He says 'Jack, I think you done had enough, now.' And then Jack turns around...practically fell into the potato salad...and yells 'Shut up, Ennis, I ain't your wife!' So Ennis just loses it completely, and he yells back 'Hell no, you ain't! If you were my wife, at least you'd have tits!'"

Liz doubled over, apoplectic with laughter. Even Ennis was smiling a little now, shaking his head ruefully. "He said that?" Liz asked.

Arlene held up her hand. "As I live and breathe, he did."

Fred continued. "Jack couldn't think of a good retort, so he just punched him. Ennis went down like a ton of bricks. Jack just stood there looking down at Ennis, out cold in the grass, then all of a sudden he got down next to him and started yellin' that someone had punched Ennis and he'd find out who had done it and rearrange their face."

Ennis laughed. "I ain't never heard that part 'afore!" he said. He nudged Jack's side. "Ain't that sweet now, rodeo. Wantin' to avenge me 'n all."

"Did you not realize you'd hit him yourself?" Liz asked Jack.

He shook his head. "I remember _none_ of this. All I know's the stories I heard, and there seems to be a different one ever time dependin' on who's doin' the tellin'."

Fred looked at his watch. "Damn, it's after eleven. We better get home and get Jimmy to bed."

"He looks pretty comfortable to me," Liz said. Little Jimmy had fallen asleep on the couch and was still there, tucked under an afghan.

Everyone stood up. "Well, thanks for comin' over and cookin' for us poor clueless menfolk," Ennis said.

"And us poor clueless city gals," Liz added.

Arlene smiled. "It's the least we could do," she said, looking at Jack. No one had mentioned the incident all evening, but the tone of the Trimbles' visit had been aggressively friendly and solicitious.

Jack came around the table and hugged her. "Don't you worry yourself none," Liz heard him tell her.

Goodbyes were said all around, and the Trimbles got into their car and drove off. Liz followed Jack and Ennis back into the living room of this house that was feeling more like home to her with each passing hour. They started to clear the detritus of the poker game from the dining-room table. "No, no," Jack said, shooing Liz away as she tried to pitch in. "You ain't had a chance to do your writin' all day and it's gettin' late. You go on to bed and take your notes, we'll handle this."

"Well...okay. If you're sure," Liz said, hesitating.

"I insist."

Liz nodded. "Good night, then." She kissed Jack's cheek, then Ennis's, and she had gotten all the way to her room before she realized that she'd never kissed them before, and yet she'd just done it without even thinking about it, and both of them had accepted it as normal.


	6. Chapter 6

Liz was woken by a soft knock at her door. "Ohuh?" she managed, in a froglike grunt. 

The door opened a bit and Jack poked his head in. "Rise 'n shine, swee'pea. Best roust yerself 'afore Ennis drinks all the coffee."

"I'm just so comfy," she said, stretching and snuggling into the heavy covers. She smiled at Jack, lurking in the doorway. "Come talk to me until I wake up enough to get up."

He crossed the floor and sat down on the edge of her bed, giving her a friendly nudge with his elbow. "Sleep okay, then?"

"God, like a rock." She turned her head and looked out her bedroom window, which had a view down the yard to the river, its banks now neat and tidy. "I love it here, Jack. I don't miss my stupid trendy sterile apartment, or the noise, or the sky that's orange at night, or having to shove my way up the sidewalk to go to work."

"Don't you miss your husband?"

She sighed. No, she didn't. And she very much doubted if Charlie missed her, but she wasn't about to explain why to a man who had dozens of guns at his immediate disposal. "I guess," she said. "I just feel so safe here."

"Well, we love havin' you."

She looked up at him. "You do? Seriously? Because I've been worrying about overstaying my welcome. I mean, this is your house and you're used to having it all to yourselves..."

"That's so, but I c'n speak for both of us when I say that havin' you 'round is doin' us good." He hesitated. "D'you know that last night me 'n Ennis had a serious talk about those things we was discussin' yesterday?"

She smiled. "Yeah?"

"He said it made him feel bad that I wasn't speakin' my mind on account 'o him. So we talked about it, and we didn't fight. Just talked." Jack smiled. "That wouldn'ta happened if'n you weren't here. And I cain't tell you how nice it is just to hear him _speak_. You cain't appreciate the difference, 'cause you don't know him otherwise, but I'm still in shock he's talkin' a you so much."

"I've got one of those sympathetic faces," Liz said. "Everybody says so. Charlie says it's why I'm a good reporter. People talk to me."

Jack grinned. "Well, it is a nice little face, all the same." He reached out and tweaked her nose. "All right, no more layin' about," he said, rising to his feet. "Up and at 'em." He winked at her and left the room, shutting the door behind him.

* * *

Jack and Ennis decided that Liz had to see someplace they called "the high meadow," so the three of them set off on horseback. She couldn't see a trail, or a road, or any recognizable markers, but her guides seemed to know their way, so Liz just followed along. It was hard to keep her eyes pointed ahead when so much beauty reared up around her. The area wasn't terribly mountainous, but the hills loomed in the distance and the rocky swells created vistas onto crystal lakes ringed with pine trees.

They entered a shaded cove of trees on the side of a hill and climbed through it. Ennis drew up alongside her. "Right there's where I had a bit of a close call with a bear," he said, pointing down to a ridge near a creek.

Jack raised both hands to his ears. "La la la la I ain't listenin' 'cause I hate this story la la la la..."

Ennis rolled his eyes. "I dunno what it is with him'n bears, he ain't never seen one. Anyhow, I came ridin' up just to get some peace, and I come up over that ridge and there's this bear. My horse nearly threw me."

Liz gaped. "What'd you do?"

"Whaddya think? I turned that horse right 'round and hightailed it outta there. Bears can outrun a man, but not a horse." He paused. "Jack! I'm done, you c'n uncover yer damn fool ears now!"

* * *

The high meadow reminded Liz of "The Sound of Music" - it was an open plain beneath the sky, ringed with high hills and trees. She was sorely tempted to spin around and burst into song. Instead, she sat cross-legged in the grass, hearing chapter and verse of town gossip from Jack while Ennis laid on his back, arms crossed behind his head, saying nothing.

Jack fell silent after awhile and kicked back onto his elbows, stretching his long legs out before him. Liz held up blades of grass to her lips, trying to make them whistle like her grandmother had shown her how to do about a million years ago. "You guys ever go back to Brokeback Mountain?" she finally asked, giving up on the grass whistle.

"We go back once a year," Jack said.

"Really?"

"Yep. Ennis stops in and sees the girls, then we head up for a week. That old camp is still there, b'lieve it or not. It don't get used anymore, 'o course."

"I'd love to see it," Liz said. "I think I ought to go there before I do my writing."

Jack's brow furrowed. "Really? Seems like a lot to go through for an article."

Liz sighed. "Well, that's another thing I've been meaning to discuss with both of you." She saw Ennis's head, mostly hidden by his hat over his face, turn towards her slightly. "I don't think I'm going to be writing an article."

"You're...not?" Jack said, puzzled. "Then what the hell're we doin' here?"

"I'm going to write a book instead."

He stared at her, his mouth hanging open a little. "A _book_?" he exclaimed. "About us?"

"Maybe not only about you. I think there's a lot of stories like yours to be told. Gay couples who don't fit the stereotypes. People like you, people who just fell in love with someone the same gender as them and don't quite know if that makes them gay or not. I'd even bet that there's a couple like you guys in about every small town in the country."

"Well, damn," Jack said, leaning back again. "Here I was startin' to feel all special, but now you're runnin' off to find yerself a hunnert more fellas like us. I feel so...so _disposable._" Ennis chuckled, the first sound he'd made in over an hour.

"Stop it," Liz said. "You and Ennis are very special, of course. I'm not going to invade anyone else's house for days at a time."

"And how're you gonna find these folks? Set up a booth in the town square with a sign what says 'If you're gay, I'd like to hear about it?'"

"No..." Liz said, although Jack had a point. "I guess I'll need to be a bit more subtle than that."

"Well, if it was me, I'd go right to the waitresses. Those women know fuckin' _everthing._"

* * *

Evening was rapidly becoming Liz's favorite time on the ranch. It was so quiet, and she'd taken to sitting on the back porch and watching the stars emerge. She'd never imagined there were so many.

Tonight, Jack was sitting with her. Ennis was somewhere. She'd gotten used to the fact that he'd often disappear for hours at a time on unspecified ranch busywork. They weren't talking, just sitting side by side in deck chairs watching the sun set. She turned to look at him. "Can I ask you a personal question?"

He smiled a little. "You ain't never asked for permission yet."

"Well, this is _really_ personal."

"Okay."

"Have you been with men besides Ennis?"

He didn't answer for a few beats, long enough for Liz to wonder if she'd offended him. She had not yet asked either of them any questions about their intimate lives, and she still had no idea how to broach the topic. This topic seemed safer, but was still fraught with peril. "Yeah," he finally said, very quietly. "Couple 'o times, when we were still tryin' to make it on a few fishin' trips a year." He picked at nonexistent lint on his jeans. "Times I'd get to missin' him so bad, it was like havin' a fever. I took a coupla trips down to Mexico, if'n you take my meanin'."

Liz nodded. "Does Ennis know about this?"

"No," Jack said, quickly. "And he don't need to, neither. Ennis never got jealous when I'd talk about bein' with Lureen, but if he heard 'o me bein' with another fella, well...that would not go over, and I ain't lyin'."

"Then he never..."

"Oh, hell no. I cain't imagine he ever..." He shook his head. "He never woulda with no one else. It's kinda part 'o his whole 'I ain't queer' thing. He likes to say he don't like fellas 'cept for me."

"Yeah, he said that the first night I was here. He said he never took a second look at any other man."

Jack snorted. "Sure. He says that. Maybe if he says it enough, it'll start bein' true."

Liz cocked one eyebrow. "You're saying that he _has_ taken a second look?"

"I seen him. He thinks he's all subtle. I dunno if'n you've noticed, but Ennis ain't so good at bein' subtle." Liz laughed. "We had this one ranch hand a few years back. His name was Willy, and don't think I didn't have a chuckle over _that_ now'n again. He was 'bout twenty-five, and he was..." Jack whistled. "He was some kinda fine-lookin' man, I don't mind tellin' you. I caught Ennis eyeballin' his ass a coupla times. He'd never admit to it, o'course, and I never called him out on it. No need t'embarrass him. But he ain't above observin' when the occasion presents itself." He shifted in his chair, a flush rising to his cheeks. "Personally, I kinda like it that he still says I'm the only fella ever turned his head. Makes me feel...I dunno. Special, I guess."

Liz reached out and took Jack's hand. He looked at her, surprised, then smiled and squeezed her fingers. "You _are_ special, Jack."

"Thanks, swee'pea. I like t'think that everbody is. I'm jus' one 'o the lucky folks that has a fella who makes me sensible 'o bein' so."

* * *

"So _how_ long are you staying?"

"I said I don't know, Charlie. Ennis's daughter is flying in tonight and staying until Sunday, so I'll be here at least until Monday."

A tired sigh. "Guess I'll farm out your assignments again. I need you back here. The sooner, the better."

Now she was getting irritated. "You know, you don't own me. I'm freelance. And this is turning into something bigger than just an article."

"What do you mean, something bigger?"

"There could be a book in this."

"Well, if you're not writing an article for the paper, then you can't expense anything."

"I wrote the article on the mayor, so my hotel and food for the first two days can still be expensed. And frankly, I don't need anything else. Ennis and Jack aren't charging me rent, you know."

"Of course not. Not the saintly, perfect Ennis and Jack."

"You don't know what you're talking about," she snapped. "You don't know them." Hearing her pretentious husband insult her fellas had her dander up, as Ennis would have said.

"Sorry," he said, sounding surprised. "Didn't realize you'd become so fond of them."

"I gotta go, Charlie," she said, tired of the whole conversation. "I don't want to miss breakfast."

"Okay. Let me know what's going on."

"Yeah." She hung up and raked her hands through her hair, damp from the shower. She finished dressing and headed to the kitchen. Ennis and Jack were passing sections of the morning paper back and forth. "Morning," she said.

"Mornin', swee'pea," Jack said. "Didja reach your husband?"

She shrugged. "Yeah."

"You don't sound too excited about it," Jack said, glancing at Ennis, who was watching her over the top of the World News section. "How long've you been married?"

"Six months."

"Damn, I'd think you'd still be in the honeymoon phase' n all!"

"We never had a honeymoon," she said flatly. "Charlie had a paper to put out."

Ennis was peering at her with narrowed eyes. "Does he treat you right?" he asked, his voice carrying the threat of dire consequences to Charlie if he didn't get the answer he wanted.

Liz sighed. "I hardly care anymore."

They both leaned forward, the newspaper forgotten. "That don't sound too good," Jack said.

"You don't want to hear my sob stories."

"Hell, Lizzie! You know everythin' there is t'know about us and we know next t'nothin' about you!" He shook his head. "We ain't never asked you a single question 'bout yourself, have we? We're bad friends, Ennis."

"I reckon we are."

Liz smiled, happy warmth spreading through her that they considered themselves her friends. "Thanks, guys. I...I might like to talk about it."

"Then talk."

"I'd only known Charlie six months when we got married. It was fast, but he kind of swept me off my feet. We eloped in Las Vegas, then moved back to New York and it all changed. He changed. He'd always been this thoughtful, caring man who just wanted to talk with me for hours and share everything and suddenly he became this stranger who'd come home and shut himself in his office and not come out until bedtime. I don't know why he wanted to marry me if he didn't want to have me around."

"Is he an ambitious man?" Jack asked.

"Oh, yeah."

"That's why, then."

Liz frowned. "What do you mean?"

Jack sighed, like he was sorry he had to be the one to break it to her. "Fellas who want to get ahead...well, sometimes they think that havin' a pretty young wife makes 'em look good." He shook his head. "I, uh...I know somethin' about that. How old is he?"

Liz felt very, very small and very, _very_ stupid. "He's forty-two."

"And you're what, thirty?"

"Thirty-one."

"Uh-huh." Jack shook his head. "Anyone who'd take a wife just to further his career...well, that ain't right. It wasn't right when I done it and it still ain't." Ennis grunted his agreement.

Liz shook her head. "It was a mistake. It was all a huge, giant mistake, and I want it to be over." She'd been thinking this in a vague, hypothetical way for weeks, but all at once it seemed inevitable and concrete. "I'm just glad I don't have years and years invested in him. I scarcely remember what it felt like to love him, if I ever did." She sighed. "Besides, I'm pretty sure he's fucking his secretary."

Silence. Jack turned to Ennis. "Say, weren't we sayin' that we ought to visit that there city? Don't you think that now'd be a real good time for a trip?"

Ennis gave a curt nod. "I'll get my shotgun," he said, rising from the table.

Liz grabbed his arm and pulled him back down, laughing. "Cut it out, guys. I don't think I'm ready to sic a couple of pissed-off ranchers on him just yet."

"Well...when you're ready, you let us know, okay?"

"Okay," she said, accepting a plate of eggs from Ennis. Silence fell again as Liz ate, basking in their steady acceptance and the comfort of the homey kitchen.

* * *

Ennis waited by the gate, trying not to look too excited. He hadn't seen Junior since Christmas, and that was a powerful long time.

He watched the passengers come pouring out of the jetway, and it wasn't too long before he saw Junior's long chestnut hair waving like a flag. He took a step forward, grinning helplessly, waiting for her to see him. "Daddy!" she cried as she spotted him. She broke into a run and hurled herself into his embrace, and Ennis found himself with his arms full of Junior again.

He kissed her cheek. "How's your flight, darlin'?"

"Long 'n boring. I slept most 'o the way." She looked around. "Where's Jack?"

"He stayed back at the house."

"Oh," Junior said, looking a little hurt.

"He's excited to see you, Junior, but we got a guest at the ranch and he stayed home with her. I'll explain in the car."

Since she was only staying the weekend, Junior hadn't checked any bags, so they headed straight for Ennis's truck. He filled her in on the Liz situation as quickly as possible.

"So...she's staying with you?"

"Yup," Ennis said, paying the parking fee and heading south towards Middlebury and home.

"For how long?"

"She's been there since...lessee, musta been Monday morning."

"How much longer's she staying?"

"I dunno. She c'n stay's long as she likes, s'far as I'm concerned. She's nice t'have around."

"I don't know about this book or whatever she's writing, Daddy. You'll hate all that publicity, won't you?"

"Oh, no. She ain't gonna put in our names or where we live. No one'll know it's us, 'cept maybe the folks around town who already know us, and that don't matter."

Junior seemed to be weighing this. "What's she like?" she asked.

"You'll meet her soon enough," Ennis said, wearily.

"C'mon, Daddy! I ain't never met nobody from New York."

"She's regular folks."

"Is she pretty?"

"She's a cute little gal. Smart as a whip. Ain't had too much luck with the fellas, though." He hoped Junior had finished her interrogation.

No such luck. "So's she divorced, then?"

"Naw. Sounds like maybe she oughta be, though."

Junior had that thoughtful look on her face again. "What's Jack think of her?"

Ennis looked at her, suspicious. "He likes her fine." Her mock-nonchalant expression confirmed his suspicions. "Junior, I thought we was through with this."

"With what?" she asked, innocently.

"With you tryin' ta find some gal to romance Jack away 'n get me moved back home." He wouldn't have told her so, but Ennis was deeply disappointed that she might even harbor such plans anymore. He'd thought they were past it, but apparently he'd been wrong.

Junior stared out the window, arms crossed. "Daddy, I like Jack 'n all, but...I still wish you could come home."

Ennis felt her words like a knife through his chest. How could he explain it to his nineteen-year-old daughter when he hadn't the words to express it even to himself? Despite the constant ache in his chest from missing her and her sister, Jack was his whole life. If he were to leave him behind and return to Wyoming, Junior wouldn't get what she wanted. She wouldn't have her daddy back, she'd have only a hollowed-out husk that looked like him and talked like him, but would have nothing to give her because it was soul-dead inside. It was better this way. Even if he only got to see her a few days at a time, at least when they were together, he could be the kind of daddy she needed and wanted. She deserved an answer, though, so he took a deep breath and did the best he could. "Sweetheart, you know I miss you somethin' terrible, and if I could I'd be closer to you. But..." He hesitated, then plunged ahead. She was old enough to understand it. "Jack _is_ my home," he said quietly, uncomfortable with even this brief statement of his private feelings.

He saw Junior swipe at her eyes, trying to hide it. She reached across the seat and took his hand, keeping her face turned towards the window. "I know, Daddy," she whispered. "And I'm glad you're happy, really I am. But it's hard when folks around town say terrible things about you, and when I c'n only see you a few times a year. Sometimes all I want is just to have you there even if it means you'd be miserable, and I know it's selfish but I can't help it."

Ennis felt a lump rising in his throat and swallowed it down. He pulled on Junior's hand until she slid across the seat so he could wrap his arm around her, hugging her to his shoulder as he drove. She rested her head on his arm with a sigh. "It's me who's been selfish, sweetheart."

"No, Daddy."

"I lef' you all jus' so's I could..."

"Shush, now." She exhaled deeply. "I've been thinkin' on this a long time, and...well, if you'd stayed, you'd've been sad and heartsick, right?"

Ennis grunted. "I s'pose so."

"Maybe after a time, you'da come to hate us, 'cause we were keepin' you from bein' happy." She raised her head and looked at him. "Maybe it's best for everybody to be happy, even if it means we're far apart."

He nodded. "You're a good girl, Junior," he said, his voice choked.

She smiled. "Anyway, most 'o the time I'm glad you're someplace where folks ain't so mean." She was playing with a loose thread on her sweater, her eyes downcast. "Few months ago a man got beat to death. Folks said he was queer. Found him bloody and beat by the side of the road out by Lake Stonybrook. Nobody saw nothin', of course," she said, anger tinging her voice. "And nobody been arrested for it. Folks _joke_ about it. Makes me want to puke. Every time someone'd mention it, Mamma'd get this hard look on her face. If you'd stuck around...that coulda been you, Daddy," she whispered. "I can't stand to think of it."

An image flashed into his mind of Jack on the ground and those tire irons rising and falling. "I know." A terrible thought rose in Ennis's mind, one that might ruin the cease-fire he'd managed to negotiate between himself and his conscience. "Junior...anyone ever get after you or Francie? 'Cause 'o me?"

"No," she said, with conviction. "I wondered if they would, but nobody ever done." She looked at him. "But they might if I was a boy. I don't know why that makes a difference, but it does. Then that makes me think...don't Jack have a boy?"

"Yeah. He's seventeen."

"Folks get after him?"

"Not as far's I know. And if'n they did, you could be sure Lureen'd give Jack holy hell 'bout it."

* * *

Liz perked up at the sound of Ennis's truck coming down the drive. "Jack!" she called, putting her book down and getting up. "They're here!" She watched out the window as Ennis parked his truck in the garage and got out, accompanied by a slender girl with long reddish hair. She hung back as Jack went out to the porch, not wanting to intrude on a family moment.

Junior grinned and waved. She ran up the porch stairs and hugged him. "Hi, Jack!" she exclaimed.

"Here's my favorite girl," Jack said, wrapping her up and kissing her temple. He drew back. "Don't you just get prettier 'n prettier every time I see you!"

Liz saw Junior giggle a little. "You keep getting' grayer!" she said, reaching up to pluck at his hair.

"Oh, I know," he said. "I pluck 'em out but three grow back for every one I get rid of." Ennis came into the house, Junior's bag over his shoulder. Liz stood up and put on her best friendly smile, wondering how much Ennis had told Junior about her, if he'd mentioned her at all.

Evidently he _had_ mentioned her, because Junior immediately approached her. "You must be the reporter! Daddy told me all about you." She stuck out her hand, which Liz shook.

"I'm Liz. It's nice to meet you, Miss Del Mar."

"Oh, please. Call me Junior, everybody does. Oh Daddy, don't put my bag away jus' yet, I got somethin' in it." Ennis paused, frowning, and came back into the living room. She took her bag from him and sat down on the couch. "I got somethin' for you from Mamma."

Ennis sat down next to her, his frown deepening. "Your Mamma sent me somethin'?" he said.

Junior reached into her bag and pulled out a long, thick scarf, red and white striped like a candy cane. "Mamma made about a hundred of these last winter. When I was packing, she gave me this and told me to give it to you." Ennis took it, holding it gingerly as if it might be a mirage that would evaporate any moment. Junior smiled. "She said to tell you that you better keep your neck warm in these Vermont winters, or else you'll catch your death."

Liz felt tears pricking at the corners of her eyes as Ennis stared at that scarf, his face a mask of disbelieving astonishment to be receiving this missive from the opposing camp. She looked over at Jack, who was standing nearby and watching Ennis's face with an expression of such tenderness that Liz felt a little envious. Charlie had certainly never looked at her like _that._ "Oh, well..." Ennis said. He cleared his throat. "Well, you tell your mamma that I'm real grateful."

Junior reached into her bag and pulled out another scarf, this one black and green striped. "Then she said, 'And give this one to your dad's friend. Ain't no call t'have him dyin' of pneumonia, neither.'" She held it out to Jack, whose expression had gone from tender to dumbfounded in a flash.

Ennis looked up at Jack as he took the scarf from Junior. "Gosh, I...I dunno what to say. I thought Alma'd never even acknowledge my existence."

"She ain't as hard's she used to be," Junior said. "She don't seem so mad about it anymore. She's actually asked me a coupla questions, real vague-like. She's asked me what the ranch is like, and how it's doin'. And a few months back, after that man died that I told you about? She sat me down, real serious. Looked like she'd been workin' up the nerve to ask me. She said, 'Junior, tell me somethin'. Your dad and his...friend. Are folks where they live nice to them?'"

Ennis swallowed hard. Jack made a brief choking sound and turned half away. "She asked that?" Ennis said.

"She sure did. I told her that you had lots 'o friends here, and that the people were real nice. She jus' nodded and said, 'That's good, then.' And that was all she said."

Ennis was staring at his new scarf again. "That eases my mind, Junior. Ain't nothin' your mamma's fault, and it's heavy on my heart that she ever got hurt. If'n she's feelin' inclined to forgive me, then that's..." He paused. "That's a good day for all of us, ain't it?"


	7. Chapter 7

**A/N**: _PLEASE NOTE the updated rating on this story. Ahem._

I would like to thank all the reviewers who have left comments. I wish I could reply to each and every one of you, but I'll have to settle for this group thank-you.

Actually, this chapter (in which nothing much proceeds) is a bit of a thank-you to everyone who's read this story and left me such nice feedback. You've all been so patient, and haven't made any demands, and so I give you this chapter, easily half of which consists of Jack and Ennis making out, having sex, or otherwise going at each other. Don't ever say I never did nothin' for ya.

* * *

Liz sat cross-legged on top of the covers, staring at the four legal pads spread out before her. One was labeled "History," another "Relationship," another was "Practical Life," and the last two were "Community" and "Sex Life." Four of these pads were full of notes, scribbles, and written snippets. The fifth was totally blank.

She had to ask them about their private relationship at some point. She couldn't put it off forever. She could certainly write about them without mentioning the existence of their sex life at all, but that seemed somehow cowardly. It stripped them of an important part of their humanity to water down their relationship and impose a veil of chastity upon it. It felt like pandering, making their story easier to accept for the more squeamish reader, and she despised pandering in all its forms. Ennis and Jack weren't a couple of sanctified, asexual, sanitized-for-your-protection gay men to be tolerated only for their value as style advisors or comic relief, they were a pair of healthy, red-blooded ranchers and she knew damned well that they had sex, probably a lot of it, and it would be dishonest to the point she was trying to make (not to mention unfair to them) to pretend that they didn't.

The problem was that she'd left her objectivity in the dust, and that was her own damned fault. She couldn't look at them and see journalistic subjects any more. She looked at them and saw Ennis and Jack, and she was loathe to intrude upon their privacy. She also had a pretty good idea how they'd respond to such queries, and it wasn't an optmistic outlook. Ennis would not want to talk about it. He'd probably get up and leave if the subject ever came up. Jack might be coaxed into a discussion, but only if Ennis was out of earshot, and he'd be wary of sharing too much of something he held dear and precious. She couldn't stand to interview them as she would a stranger, carefully drawing them out and manipulating them with a series of orchestrated questions designed to break down their inhibitions and make them open up to her.

She'd tried to avoid having to ask questions by gathering her information through observation. That approach had been wildly unsuccessful, to say the least, due to the simple fact that they gave nothing away. If she hadn't known the true nature of their relationship, she might have assumed they were roommates, or friends, or even brothers. The physical contact she'd observed between them had consisted of exactly two instances of Ennis's hand on Jack's neck: once when he'd gone out to check the fenceline, and once as they left the Trimble house. She had accidentally observed them asleep in bed, but that didn't tell her anything. They'd just been lying there.

The simple fact was that they were not men who engaged in casual contact...that is to say, not when they could be observed. For all she knew, they were all over each other constantly when they were alone in the house, although she doubted it.

She also had to admit to a certain prurient interest, and it made her uneasy about her own motives. She didn't know the first thing about gay sex. That hadn't been part of the birds-and-bees talk, at least not the one _she'd_ gotten. She presumed people had written books about it, but that didn't help her very much now. But Ennis and Jack didn't exist to satisfy her ignorant curiosity, and would probably not take too kindly to being asked for answers to all the embarrassingly explicit questions that had occurred to her. _Who's on top? Is it always the same, or do you switch off? Does it hurt? Do you have to use some kind of product? Can you do it face to face? Is there oral? Do you kiss a lot, or not as much as with women?_ She felt twelve years old again, learning about sex for the first time and wondering where the penis went. She wished she could conjure up some anonymous, friendly gay man who would just answer all her practical questions so she could stop thinking about it.

The entire topic was just too...unsettling. Thinking about their sex life brought to mind uncomfortable mental images of her handsome male friends doing unspecified naked things together, which made her feel like a dirty voyeur and gave her strange fluttery feelings in her midsection that she was trying to ignore.

Happily, her circular arguments were interrupted by a quiet knock on her door. "Come in," she said, tucking the pad labeled "Sex Life" underneath her briefcase. The door opened and Junior leaned in. "Oh, hello," she said.

"D'you mind if I come in?" Junior said.

"No, please." Liz cleared the rest of the notebooks away and motioned to the end of the bed. "Have a seat." Liz had liked Junior almost at once. She was quiet like Ennis, but far more willing to be drawn into conversation. Once the topic had been brought up, she'd had a lot of questions for Liz about city life and her job as a reporter.

What had been more interesting to Liz was to observe the dynamics between the three of them. Ennis sat next to Junior, his body language communicating his ease with her. Jack sat nearby on the edge of a chair, leaning forward, silently telling Liz that he wanted to be included in their family bond, but wasn't quite sure of his place. Junior seemed easy enough with Jack when they interacted, but when he and her father spoke to each other, no matter how innocuous the exchange, she withdrew just a little, her eyes cutting away and her arms drawing in.

Now, Junior climbed up on the bed and crossed her legs, mimicing Liz's own posture. "It's just a new thing to have another girl in the house," Junior said with a shy smile. "Daddy's gone to bed, and I'm wide awake yet."

"Me too. I was just organizing some of my notes."

"Oh! Can I see?"

"Sure," Liz said, pulling out the "Practical Life" legal pad, the one that seemed the safest to show Ennis's daughter.

Junior flipped a few pages, her eyes scanning Liz's chicken scratches. "All this just about Daddy 'n Jack?"

"That's one of five notebooks."

"I can't imagine there'd be this much to write about."

"This life is new to me. I have to write down everything I find out, not just about them, but about the ranch and the town." Liz cocked her head. "Can I ask you a few questions?"

"Sure."

"You seem very accepting of your dad's choices now, but it can't have been easy for you at the beginning. Do you feel comfortable talking to me about that a little?"

Junior nodded. "Thing is, I didn't know for awhile what had happened. I just knew he'd moved away and started a ranch. I didn't know about Jack. Then when I did find out, I didn't really understand what it meant. When I finally did...well, it was bad for awhile."

"I can imagine."

"It was like my dad had died, and there was this whole other man in his place. Then come to find out that maybe who I thought was my dad never existed, and it was always that other man, all the time, and that the dad I knew was just some mask he put on to hide the man he really was. I felt jealous that Jack had known his real self all that time, and maybe I'd only known the mask." She sighed. "But then after the first coupla times I came out here to visit, I could see that it was my same old dad, except...happier." She stared at the bedspread, her hands toying with one of the yarn tie-offs on the crazy quilt. "I don't say this to Daddy, but...I still have my troubles."

"Like what?"

Junior glanced up at Liz's face, then lowered her eyes again and spoke quietly. "I pretend they're just friends," she murmured. "In my head. I know they're not, but it's just easier to think of it that way."

"I can see how it would be."

"I don't like to think that they're...you know. Like that. I try and keep it in my head that it's just my dad, and his friend Jack, and they just live here together, and that's all." She frowned. "Does that sound mean?"

Liz laughed. "Junior, kids have been telling themselves the very same thing about their parents since time began."

* * *

The house was full of the heavy stillness of summer midnight when Liz got up to answer the call of nature. Half-asleep, she shuffled to the bathroom and did her business, yawning mightily. She went to the mirror and peered at her reflection, observing that she'd gotten some sun since she'd been here. The freckles were rising on her cheekbones.

She sucked in a breath as she caught a quick movement out of the corner of her eyes. She went to the window, her heart pounding, and looked out to the backyard just in time to see Ennis, in his pajamas, skulking across the yard from the house. Liz frowned. Why on earth would Ennis be sneaking out in the middle of the night? The only reason people did that was...she shook her head. It couldn't be. Ennis could not possibly be meeting some illicit lover on the side. She refused to believe it. He wasn't the type to cheat.

She slipped into the hallway, fully awake now. She could see the closed door to their bedroom, and she could picture Jack inside, blissfully asleep and unaware while Ennis was out there doing God knows what. Ire rose in her throat on Jack's behalf, and before she could stop herself she was out the back door and silently hurrying across the yard in a half-crouch, the white splotch of Ennis's t-shirt guiding her. She kept to the shadows cast by the greenish halogen night-lights on the outbuildings and watched as Ennis ducked into the stables.

Liz slipped past the barn to the far side of the stables so she'd have a better vantage point. Ennis was standing in the doorway to the groom's quarters, which went largely unused because Billy didn't live at the ranch. He was looking out to the yard, like he was waiting for someone. Liz hunkered down into the shadows...she could see him, but there was no way he could see her.

Ten minutes went by. Ennis waited, pacing now and again, mostly just watching the yard. She saw him take out a cigarette, stare at it for a moment, then throw it away. Finally, at length, she heard a quick whistle from somewhere out in the shadows. Ennis perked up, and she heard him exhale in relief as a figure detached itself from the darkness and came into the stables to join him. Liz's jaw tightened as Ennis stepped forward and embraced the man (for it was, indeed, a man).

_How could he_, Liz thought, all her rosy pictures of Jack and Ennis's grand, fairy-tale passion for each other falling into shambles around her. _Jack trusts him...and I would never have thought him capable of..._ Liz's jaw dropped open. Ennis had taken a step back and turned, the man in his arms coming into view, a shaft of light falling across his face.

It was Jack, of course. Who else? Liz slapped a non-metaphorical hand to her forehead. Had she _actually_ thought that Ennis had a little bit on the side? Yes, she had, but given the circumstances she thought she could be forgiven. Why would a man sneak out of his house for a secret rendezvous with his own partner when he had a perfectly serviceable bed in his very own bedroom...right across the hall from where his teenaged daughter was sleeping. She nodded. All was now clear, it made perfect...

_Oh my._ Liz blinked, her eyes riveted to the sight of Ennis and Jack kissing the _hell_ out of each other. She'd never seen two men kiss before. All her experience with kissing, both observing and participating, had been of the hetero variety. In those situations, there always seemed to be a kisser and a kissee, usually the man and the woman, respectively. Here, there were two kissers, and it looked like they were engaged in some kind of contest to determine who was the alpha kisser. Happily, this seemed to be the sort of contest in which everybody won.

_I shouldn't be watching this. This is private. I'm intruding. I really ought to be leaving now. I can't believe I'm..._

_God, that's hot._

Liz clapped a hand over her eyes, stood up, and backed away from her hiding place. She looked away from the stables before she lowered her hand, then scurried back to the house as fast (and as quietly) as her legs could carry her

* * *

Ennis stared at the cigarette. It was _calling_ to him. "Come on, Ennis. Just one. It'll taste so good, you know it will. He won't notice." The hell he wouldn't. He'd get within five feet and his nose would wrinkle right up in a way that would have been cute if it hadn't meant that he wasn't coming any closer. "God, Ennis," he'd say. "You stink like an ashtray." And that would shrink Ennis's chances of getting any tonight to a tiny little nothing. He threw the cigarette away.

He looked at his wrist, but his watch wasn't there, of course. He'd just pulled on a t-shirt over his pajama bottoms. Jack was supposed to follow in ten minutes, but he'd been known to draw it out just to punish Ennis for making him go through this cloak-and-dagger routine every time Junior came to visit.

He amused himself by picturing Jack lying in bed, waiting for it to be time. He'd have one arm tucked behind his head, his chest bare...Ennis closed his eyes, wishing he was there instead of out here in this drafty old stable. He could look at Jack forever, a fact that had taken him a long time to assimilate into his idea of himself. Ennis Del Mar was a tit man. He liked the swell of a woman's hips and the curve of her waist. He liked long hair and smooth skin and soft lips. Soft lips were a particular favorite of his, in fact. He liked _women's bodies._ Right?

Well, that was what he'd always thought. Which was why it had come as such a surprise to him back on Brokeback to feel a little flutter in his midsection whenever Jack smiled, that wide grin full of white teeth that hit him like a dive into a cool lake on a hot day. How could he be a man with an eye for the ladies when those same eyes kept straying to admire how Jack filled out his jeans, and how he looked up on that jumpy mare, his legs flexing to keep himself on her while she did her damnedest to buck him right off?

And then...oh, and then when it had happened. If he liked women so much, how was it that when speech deserted him, leaving him grunting and gasping from the feeling of being inside Jack's hot tightness, all he could think was _God, how did I live without this_? That whole next day, astride Cigar under the first sun that shone upon an Ennis Del Mar who'd known another man's body, his feverish thoughts had melted from _how did I live without that?_ into _how did I live without him?_

By the time he'd returned to camp that evening, Ennis was sure of nothing except the need that flowed through him like blood from a wound, the need to touch Jack again and feel that ease and lightness that came to him when Jack smiled. They'd sat at that fire for hours, not speaking, the questions they weren't asking poisoning the casual intimacy they'd known before. Ennis had come within a hair's breadth of saying to hell with it, and heading back up to the sheep. He didn't like to think what his life might be now if he'd done so then. He'd never know where he'd gotten the guts to get up and go into that tent, but his reward for his nerve had been the unexpected release of being cradled in Jack's strong arms, of letting go of the world and all its expectations and giving himself over to the feeling of Jack's skin and his kiss and that nameless thing that had somehow been created between them.

Now, of course, it didn't trouble him to know that while he might still have an appreciation for a pretty woman's curves, he had an even greater appreciation for the strong cords of Jack's forearms and that ridge of muscle that ran around his hipbone. But not everything had been an adjustment. As he'd found out that second night, when he'd felt a strange new emotion that he now knew to have been love touch his heart for the first time in his life, Jack did have awful soft lips.

He heard a quick whistle from outside and straightened up. Jack came out of the shadows, a half-smile on his face. He didn't waste any words, just came into Ennis's arms and kissed him hard, those soft lips so recently in Ennis's thoughts attacking his own as if to show him who was boss here. As far as Ennis was concerned, Jack could be boss if he wanted to, so long as his person was still available for Ennis's ongoing appreciation.

Ennis held Jack's head in his hands and coaxed his lips open with his tongue, feeilng Jack's breath rushing into his own lungs. Jack was murmuring something, Ennis had no idea what and he didn't much care, he was too taken up with that feeling of Jack opening himself to him, a feeling that he never got tired of. Sometimes, especially in the earlier days of their relationship, just knowing that Jack loved him enough to give himself over to Ennis's desire was a powerful aphrodisiac. By now he knew that Jack was getting as good as he was giving, but it still moved him to know that as much as he wanted Jack, he himself was wanted just as much in return.

"Ennis." Jack finally managed to form the words. Ennis could feel him grinning. "Whoa there, cowboy. You're powerful revved up tonight. You get started without me? That ain't very sportin' of you."

Ennis smiled. "Naw. I was jus' thinkin' 'bout you while I waited, is all." He harrumphed. "Mighta got myself a bit het up."

The smile faded from Jack's face. "You always get me het up," he said, his voice a low purr that communicated directly to Ennis's spinal column. With a growl, he yanked Jack's mouth back to his and steered him blindly backwards into the groom's quarters. He could feel Jack's erection pressing into his hip; he grabbed the hem of Jack's t-shirt and yanked it up over his head.

Jack seized Ennis's shoulders and spun him around, then pushed him back until his legs hit the bed. _God, he's a wild man tonight_, Ennis just had time to think before Jack dropped to his knees, yanked Ennis's pajama pants down and dove in without preamble. "Christ, Jack," Ennis moaned. He steadied himself with one hand on the wall, his other twining through Jack's hair. The first time Jack had done this (which had been ridiculously late in their relationship) he'd been amazed to find that he found the sight of it almost as exciting as the feeling. The precious few times Alma had been persuaded to oblige him, he'd shut his eyes and immersed himself in the sensation, but with Jack, he couldn't bear to look away lest he miss a single moment. He had to see himself sliding into Jack's mouth, the way his lips looked wrapped around his shaft, and the image that always undid him, as it was about to do...Jack always chose just the right moment to cast his eyes up to Ennis's face, and the sight of him looking up from beneath his lashes was like a jolt that short-circuited Ennis's brain.

Ennis came with a cry, his knees giving out and pitching him onto the bed. Jack pulled his pajama pants the rest of the way off and crawled up over him, shucking his own in the process. Ennis curved his body into the whole length of Jack against him, naked and warm; he wrapped him up and maneuvered them both onto the bed, wriggling out of his t-shirt and winding his legs through Jack's as they kissed, all the clothes landing where they were tossed.

Ennis angled his hips into Jack's, sliding his hands down to his ass to let Jack know what he wanted. Jack drew back. "Really?" he whispered. "You sure?"

"Yeah," Ennis said, nodding. He started to turn over, but Jack stopped him.

"No," he said. "Like this. I wanna watch you," he said, ducking his head to kiss Ennis again. He didn't let up, just kept kissing him while Ennis reached between their bodies, smoothing over Jack's hardness from the jar they kept hidden behind the headboard. Ennis clutched at Jack's back as he entered him, gasping and willing himself to relax, knowing it would be worth the effort in the end. He still wasn't terribly accustomed to this. It had been two years into their residence here at the ranch before he could even work up the guts to attempt it. Jack had never pressured him, but Ennis felt vaguely guilty about always being on top. He could admit to a desire to know what it felt like to have Jack inside him, to watch Jack's face and see how he was making him feel.

The first time had been...not good. A bit like being reamed out with an axe-handle. Afterwards, Ennis had spent a good ten minutes apologizing to Jack for their first time while Jack laughed and reassured him it hadn't been that bad, which Ennis privately doubted.

But now, that first time felt like long ago as he laid there looking up into Jack's eyes, watching the twitches under his skin as he pressed forward until he was fully sheathed. Ennis swallowed back a groan at the potent sensation of being filled, being taken, being _claimed_ that always came to him at this moment. It was the perceived powerlessness of this act that had frightened him for so long, but once he'd actually done it, he found that it had quite the opposite effect on him. Giving himself to Jack made him feel powerful, in some ephemeral way that he didn't really understand but couldn't deny. Jack exhaled and propped himself on his elbows, pressing the flats of his hands to the sides of Ennis's face. "You okay, cowboy?" he whispered.

Ennis grinned, wrapping his legs around Jack's hips. "I will be if you do me right, darlin'," he murmured.

Jack groaned and dropped his head to Ennis's shoulder. "God, you drive me crazy," he muttered. And then it was all breath and heat and Jack inside him and then he just wanted it harder and faster. He urged Jack on with his hands and his lips and Jack obliged him, and then he was coming again and Jack kissed his moans away before pushing his thighs back and letting loose, muscles flexing under Ennis's hands until he finally sailed past the edge, crying out and collapsing into Ennis's arms with a dopey grin on his face. "Christ almighty, Ennis," he panted. "One 'o these days, I swear I'm gonna blow out my ticker in bed with you."

Ennis smiled and kissed his forehead. "Well, there ain't no way _I'd_ rather go."

* * *

They got under the covers in the groom's quarters once the night air chilled the sweat from their bodies. Jack's hand idly stroked Ennis's hair where his head lay on Jack's shoulder, his other arm wrapped around Ennis's chest. He was still reeling from the sex they'd just had and from the fact that Ennis had wanted him on top. That was not a frequent occurrence, and when it had happened before, like as not Jack had asked for it.

Ennis sighed. "Tell me somethin'."

"Sure."

"You ever had sex this good before?"

Jack nodded. "Oh, yeah. 'Course I have."

Ennis's head popped up, an almost comically perturbed expression on his face. "You _have_?"

Jack couldn't keep it up and broke into a grin. "Hell, yes. Last Tuesday, when we did it in the shower. I was seein' stars for half an hour."

Ennis's frown deepened and his eyes narrowed, but a smirk was flirting with the corners of his mouth. "That ain't what I meant and you know it, Jack fuckin' Twist, and you know I was thinkin' I might just want to go again but now I ain't so sure."

"Then if you got a question for me, ask it proper."

Ennis sighed wearily. "You ever had sex this good _with anyone else_?"

Jack shook his head. "No, 'course not. You?"

He let his head fall to Jack's chest again. "Not even close," he mumbled. They just laid there for a few minutes, touching each other and enjoying the afterglow. Jack felt Ennis's breath warm on his neck and the beat of his heart through his own chest. "Earlier, when I was waitin' for you," Ennis said, "I was thinkin' about that second night on Brokeback."

Jack smiled. "Yeah." It was a memory he took out and examined often. How hesitant Ennis had been, how he hadn't even been able to meet Jack's eyes, and then once he'd surrendered to it, how Jack had felt all the tension leave Ennis's body and mold to his, his hands on Jack's bare chest. The night before might have been their first fuck, but it was that second night that stayed stronger in Jack's memory. That had been the start of it, for real. That was when it started to be more than just a fuck. Jack sighed. "I love you, Ennis," he murmured, kissing his forehead. He felt Ennis smile against his chest and burrow closer into his arms. He didn't expect him to say it back. He'd said it a few days ago, and then he'd heard it secondhand from Liz (_somethin' fierce_) and that would hold him for a long time.

"I got a funny feelin'," Ennis said after another long silence.

"Your leg asleep or somethin'?"

He chuckled. "No, about Liz."

"Ennis, if you are thinkin' about Lizzie when we're naked in bed together, then we have got a problem."

"Shut up and lemme finish."

"Fine, go ahead."

Ennis shifted. "I think she's fixin' t'ask us about this."

Jack frowned. "About what?"

"You know. Our...private life."

"You mean our sex life."

"Well, yeah."

"You're prob'ly right. She's a reporter, and reporters are nosy by nature, and if she's gonna write about us and our Big Gay Ranchin' Lifestyle then I guess that's part of it, ain't it? Plus she's prob'ly curious."

Ennis harrumphed. "What we do together in private ain't none 'o her affair."

"Nothin' is, but that don't stop her askin'. Nor us tellin', to judge by how much we both been flappin' our lips of late."

He rose up on one elbow to meet Jack's eyes. "What're you sayin', you think we ought to tell her about our sex life?"

Jack shrugged. "I ain't suggestin' we describe our favorite positions in detail, but what's the harm in talkin' 'bout it in a general kinda way?"

Ennis flopped onto his back at Jack's side. "I won't never be able to look her in the face again."

"Right, I forgot. I am talkin' to a man who cain't stand to have sex in his own house when his daughter's visitin'."

"Christ, Jack, she's right across the fuckin' hall! She's like to be traumatized for life if'n she were to hear...something..."

"Well, Lizzie ain't your daughter, and I think we oughta to talk to her 'bout it. Last coupla days I seen her eyein' us like she's got somethin' on her mind she don't know how to say. We could spare her the trouble 'o workin' up the nerve to ask us and just sit her right down and have a chat 'bout it."

Ennis grunted. "I don't feel right tellin' someone our private stuff, Jack." He raised up again. Jack was surprised by the tender expression on his face. He reached up and laid a hand on Jack's cheek, letting his thumb run across his lips. "That stuff's special. It's just for us."

Jack nodded. "I don't want to lay it all out for the world to see, neither. But we could at least hear what she wants to ask, then decide. You don't have to say nothin' if you don't want to." He turned on his side and nuzzled his head into Ennis's shoulder. "I don't wanna talk 'bout Lizzie no more," he murmured, kissing his neck. He felt more than heard a rumbling start low in Ennis's chest.

"What do you want, then?" Ennis responded, his hands roaming down Jack's bare back, a smile in his voice.

Jack drew back. "I gotta spell it out for you, lover?"

Ennis claimed not to care for most endearments (he called Jack "rodeo" most of the time, using "darlin" when he was feeling especially emotional and one other term in very rare and intimate occasions) but Jack knew that secretly, for some reason, it revved Ennis's engines when Jack called him "lover." This had been accidentally discovered when Jack had once used the term in jest. Ennis had immediately stopped laughing, his dark eyes glittering, and asked him to say it again. Jack had, all humor gone from his tone, and Ennis had attacked him with renewed vigor.

It worked its magic once again that night, and Jack could do little but hang on and enjoy the ride.


	8. Chapter 8

**A/N**: _Okay. That's two chapters in less than 24 hours. HAPPY NOW? Just kidding._

_My, everyone certainly is curious about that secret, unspecified term of endearment Ennis has for Jack in rare and intimate situations! I wonder what it could be? Yes, it will be appearing in the story, and you'll know it when he says it, and you'll probably be disappointed at how ordinary it is after all this buildup._

_

* * *

_

Jack loved mornings. Back in Childress, it had been his only time of peace. Lureen and Bobby both liked to linger in bed until the last possible moment, so he'd rise early, sometimes before dawn. He'd get his coffee and go out to the porch, then sit and think about Ennis while he watched the sun come up over the flat Texas plain. It came to feel like their special time together, even though Ennis wasn't there and didn't know Jack's mind was on him.

Saturday promised to be a busy day. The whole household was going to the county dairy fair. Jack had somehow been roped into judging the calf competition, so he'd be spending most of the afternoon feeling up livestock. Marianne would be back today, too, and that was welcome news. Normally she wouldn't be around on a Saturday, but she was entering her honey-lemon cheesecake (Jack's personal favorite) in the baking contest and wanted to use the ranch's kitchen, which was much larger and better-equipped than the one at her house, to bake the three cakes she'd need for her entry. Jack was hoping to persuade her to set up a pan of cornbread and a pot of her steak-and-potato stew before she left.

Thermos in hand, Jack headed down to the stable, his boots kicking up the morning dew that'd be burnt off by eight. He had a mind to take a ride up to one of their two satellite paddocks and look in on things. Each of the paddocks had an on-site keeper, but he liked to let them know that he and Ennis were watching.

He headed to Chaparral's stall, thinking he'd check her leg wrappings while he was down here. Chappie was Junior's favorite horse, and Doc McGill was afraid she'd have to be put down with a bad leg. When Jack got to her stall, Junior was already there, sitting in the hay by Chappie's head and stroking the horse's neck. He leaned against the post, watching Junior's sad expression. She glanced up at him with a vague smile. "My girl's not doin' so good, Jack," she said.

"Her leg might just mend up yet."

"Daddy thinks she ought to be put down. He says she'll never be the same, and she'll probably always be hurting. I don't want her to suffer, but…" She sniffed. "I hate to think of it."

Jack came into the stall and squatted by Chappie's leg, putting his hand on the inflamed ligaments. They didn't feel warm, which was a good sign, but he couldn't tell any more than that. "I hate to think of it too," he said. "She's a good little horse."

Junior looked up at him. "What do you think?"

Jack flushed a little, ridiculously happy that she was asking _his_ opinion. "I ain't no vet, Junior."

"You know more about horses than Daddy does."

"Who says?"

"_He_ says."

_Christ, two votes of confidence in ten seconds. I'm gonna get spoiled._ He sighed. "I don't think you oughta put her down jus' yet," he said. "No harm in seein' how her leg mends. She might never be a workin' horse again, but she could still be ridden. It ain't like we got a waitin' list for space in the stable," he said, smiling.

Junior nodded, relieved. "That's just what I think." Jack sat down by Chappie's haunch and stroked her flank gently, feeling the animal's powerful muscles shiver under his hand. Junior was silent…too long silent. Jack looked up and saw her staring at his hand. His left hand, resting on the horse's side. But it wasn't the hand she was looking at, it was the _ring._ "That's a beautiful ring," she said, her voice carefully controlled. "I ain't never noticed it before."

_Shit,_ Jack thought. _That's 'cause I usually take it off when you visit. But this time, I forgot._ "It's…uh…"

"My dad gave you that ring, didn't he?" Junior asked, cutting him off. Not that he had any idea what would have come out of his mouth if she hadn't.

Jack sighed, his shoulders sagging. "Yeah, he did."

Junior nodded slowly. Jack could see that she was trying very hard to accept this as normal and assimilate it into her idea of her father's life, but she was only half-succeeding. She shook her head, hard. "I don't know why I'm takin' on so," she said, dashing at one of her eyes. "It ain't like I didn't know that…you and him…you know."

"There's different kinds 'o knowin'," Jack said, choosing his words with care. "There's knowin' in theory, and then there's knowin' from having it shoved in your face." He hesitated. "I'm sure sorry, Junior. Usually I take it off when you're…"

She suddenly whipped her head around. "Don't you take that ring off, Jack! If my Daddy gave it to you, it must mean somethin' important. Don't you hide it from me, you hear?"

Jack twisted the ring on his finger. "It _does_ mean somethin' important," he said, quietly.

They sat there for a few minutes, the silence weighty between them. Junior kept stroking Chappie's neck, the horse lying quiet and oblivious to the tension. Junior sniffed, drawing her knees up to her chest and wrapping her arms around them. "So, what? Does this mean you're my stepdad now? I already got one, I got no use for another," she said.

"I'd just like to be your friend, Alma," Jack said. She looked around at his use of her given name. "Aren't we friends, you and me?"

She sighed. "I guess so. I mean, I want that too, for Daddy's sake if nothin' else, but it's hard sometimes."

"I know, sweetheart."

She was quiet for a long time. "You took him from me, Jack," she finally said, her voice barely louder than a whisper, her tone bearing not an accusation but only a statement of fact.

Jack felt like somebody was digging his heart out with a butter knife. "It ain't right," he said. "I never wanted to hurt you or your sister. I did the only thing I knew to do."

Junior was looking at him. "It wasn't safe back there, was it?" Jack just shook his head. "I know it wasn't. I know it's safer here. But for a long time I hated you."

"I know," Jack said. "I don't blame you." He met her eyes. "You're sayin' you don't now?"

She shrugged, lowering her eyes to Chappie's neck. "You make him happy," she murmured. "And that makes _me_ happy."

Jack watched her profile. Sometimes he could see so much of Ennis in her that it made him ache. _I wish you were ours, Junior. I wish I could be part of what you and him have._ He took a deep breath, bracing himself. This young woman deserved to hear him say it, even if she already knew it. "I love your dad very much, you know," he said, managing barely more than a whisper.

Slowly, she nodded. "I know." She raised her head and met his eyes. "So do I." She stood up and brushed off her jeans. Jack got up and followed her out of Chaparral's stall. He thought she was going to head back to the house, but then she stopped and turned around to face him. "But what I've been thinkin' about is…I'm lucky. I'm his daughter," she said, a thoughtful expression on her face. "And everybody knows what that means. Everybody expects that I'll love him, and that he'll love me, because that's just how it's supposed to be. It's honored by the law and the church and all the social niceties. When he tells people I'm his daughter, everybody knows how to act, and what to say. I know people will smile, and think how nice it is to see a father and daughter so close and fond." She reached out and grasped his left hand, running her thumb over the ring her father had placed on his finger. She met his eyes and he saw hers misting over. "I can't imagine what it's like for you, because you don't have that. They don't even know what to _call_ you, do they? No one recognizes it, no one honors it."

_Keep it together, keep it together._ "It'd be enough if you did, Junior."

She looked down at the ring for a few moments. "I don't know if I'll ever be all easy in my mind, Jack. I can't promise you that I'll ever be _glad_ he met you." She raised her head. "But I'm awful glad that he's happy, and that's the truth. And I know that you and Daddy have had to fight for everything, and it ain't over yet. I just…" She looked away and blinked twice, hard. "I just don't want to be something else you have to fight." She met his eyes again. Jack felt his lower lip trembling and didn't bother to stop it. Junior smiled and held out her arms. Jack reached out and hugged her, pulling her tight to his chest, and felt her arms go around his neck.

"You don't know what that means to me, sweetheart," he said into her hair.

"Just you promise me you won't ever take that ring off again," she said. "That's my daddy's ring and don't you forget it," she said.

Jack laughed and drew back, sniffing and wiping at his eyes. "Okay, that's a promise. I hated taking it off, anyway." He slung one arm around her shoulders and walked her back towards the stable. "Hey, you game for a ride? I was gonna go check up on the north pasture. Whyn't you saddle up Clairie and come with me?"

Junior looked at him, wide-eyed. She loved to ride and only got to do so when she visited the ranch, but Ennis didn't like her going very far or very fast, and it was four miles to the north pasture. They'd be galloping most of the way. Jack knew she was horsewoman enough to handle it. Ennis was just paranoid. "Really? I can come with you?"

"If'n you want to."

"But…what if Daddy…"

"You let me worry about your dad, okay?"

Junior needed no further encouragement, and within ten minutes they were saddled up and on their way up the inner fenceline. "One thing, though," she said.

"What's that?"

She cocked one eyebrow. "Anytime you want to quit sneaking out to the stable after midnight is just fine with me."

Jack's stomach dropped down to his knees. "You…you know about that?"

"Couple of years ago I heard the door shut and figured what you were up to. And ever since then, every time I visit, all I can do is lie there and wait to hear the floorboards creak, wonderin' why it's such a big deal."

He chuckled. "Well, you wanna discuss that with your dad. I am staying out of it. But try not to let him know that you caught on, if'n you want him to live past lunchtime."

When they returned to the stable a few hours later, Ennis was there having his own look at Chappie. He walked out to the doors as they approached, smiling. Jack could see that it pleased him to see him and Junior out riding together, but he was trying to play it down. He held Clairie's bridle for Junior to dismount. "Good mornin', sweetheart," he said, kissing her cheek. "Have a nice ride?"

"Real nice, daddy."

Jack dismounted and took both horses' reins. "Mornin'," Ennis said to him, gruffly, avoiding Jack's eyes in front of his daughter.

"Mornin', cowboy."

Junior put her hands on her hips. "Now, Daddy. What kinda greetin' is that? Ain't you even got a good-mornin' kiss for your man?"

It took all the self-control Jack could muster not to bust out laughing at Ennis's face. He looked like he'd been sucker-punched. "A…a what?"

Jack handed the reins to Billy and took a step closer. "You heard the lady, Ennis."

"Well…I don't…what you…the hell?" Ennis spluttered.

Junior flapped her gloves at him. "What are you waiting for, the rapture? Go on!"

Ennis had turned an unflattering shade of fuchsia, but his thin lips were twitching in a way that might have been the start of a smile. He turned towards Jack, took one look back over his shoulder at Junior, who was just standing there with her arms crossed and an expectant look on her face, then leaned in and kissed Jack quickly. "Good mornin', rodeo," he said, in a gentler tone of voice.

Junior nodded. "That's better. Honestly, men are all the same. You'd think you was askin' em to walk over hot coals to show a little affection, like it'd kill them to hold your hand once in a damn while…" Her voice trailed off as she walked out of the stables towards the house.

Ennis rounded on Jack once she was gone. "Okay, what the holy fucking hell's going on around here this morning?"

Jack grabbed his arm and steered him to the bench by the groom's quarters. "I'll tell you, but you gotta sit down first. And lemme make sure I got my hanky, 'cause we both might be needin' it."

* * *

Liz had spent most of the morning in the ranch office, an isolated room past the kitchen. It was neat and well-furnished with two desks. Jack had told her that she was welcome to use Ennis's, as he never did so himself. "I do most of the paperwork 'round here," he explained. "Ain't nobody better'n Ennis at runnin' this place and organizing impossible amounts of work so's it all gets done, but when it comes to the numbers and figures, it's best left outta his hands."

So she'd set up her legal pads and a typewriter she'd borrowed from Fred Trimble and made herself a little workspace. The only thing missing was a telephone with someone on the other end telling her that she was past her deadline, and it was a welcome omission.

But she sure as hell wasn't going to miss meeting the mythical Marianne, the ranch's housekeeper. She'd been hearing about this Valkyrie-like figure all week and was anxious to find out how her expectations paired up with reality.

Her first clue that Marianne had arrived was the sound of Jack's boots slamming through the house as he ran from the back door to the front, shouting "She's back! She's back!" She knew by now that Jack could be as serious as the businessman he was or as squirrely as the boy he'd once been, and both versions of himself seemed at peace with each other inside his skin.

Liz got up and went into the living room just in time to see Marianne come through the front door. Jack picked her up and spun her around. "Put me down, Twisty," Marianne said, slapping at his shoulder and smiling as she did it. He did, grinning ear to ear. "You sure are glad to see me," she said. "Ennis make chili again?" Jack laughed, and went out to Marianne's car to bring in her baking supplies.

Marianne was not at _all_ what Liz had been picturing. She'd imagined an older, matronly woman with arms muscled from lifting kids and loads of laundry, her face ruddy from the sun and her eyes wrinkled from smiling. The sort of country woman who made the world turn. In reality, Marianne was _tiny,_ and young. Mid-twenties at most, younger than Liz herself. She had short, dark curly hair and a deadpan expression. She was wearing jeans and a plaid camp shirt. Her skin was not ruddy but tan, her face unlined, but her arms were, indeed, muscled. She spotted Liz and came right over to her. "You must be Lizzie, the reporter." She wasn't from around here. Her low-pitched voice had a flat Midwestern accent.

"Yes, I am. How did…"

"I spoke to Jack the other night, he told me all about your visit and your plans. I think it's admirable, what you're doing. I'm glad you're a sensible sort, and that you intend to keep their anonymity." Marianne spoke in even, declarative sentences as if her words were scripted, her eyes never leaving Liz's own. Liz felt pinned in place, a sense memory of standing before the assistant principle's desk making her want to behave herself. "I'd like to talk more about this book you mean to write at a later time. But you ought to know now that if you write anything against these men, anything that hurts them or causes them to be hurt, we'll have words."

Liz nodded, feeling usurped. She'd been the one ready to defend Jack and Ennis's privacy and dignity up until now, but this woman had a greater claim on them than she did, with her not-even-a-full-week's acquaintance. "I got it," she said.

Marianne's lips curled into a half-smile. "Good. Now come on, I have three cheesecakes to bake and you're going to help me." She seized Liz's arm and steered her into the kitchen. "Besides, if you all have been eating Ennis's cooking for the last week, I'd better lay in some decent food for you before I go off to the fair." she asked as they came into the kitchen.

* * *

To Jack's mind, Junior seemed ill-at-ease and nervous throughout lunch. Ennis kept eyeing her suspiciously. "You feelin' all right, Junior?" he finally asked, after Marianne brought them a plate of sugar cookies. Jack sent up another silent prayer of thanks for her return as he felt one of her cookies melt in his mouth.

She nodded, a bit too quickly. "I'm fine." Then, oddly, she and Liz exchanged a significant nod, like it was some kind of signal, and Liz got up and excused herself with some flimsy excuse. Not five seconds later, Junior straightened her back, took a deep breath, and spoke with determined confidence. "Daddy, Jack…I've got something I want to talk to you about." Jack looked at Ennis, whose puzzled expression masked his own. Junior folded her hands on the table and visibly steeled herself. "I can't go with you to the fair this afternoon," she said.

Ennis let out a breath. "Christ, is that all? You don't have t'go if'n you don't wanna, Junior."

"That isn't all, Daddy. The reason I can't go is that I have an appointment in Middlebury. At the admissions office of the Community College of Vermont." Jack felt a jolt pass up his spine as his mind jumped ahead to what Junior had to be suggesting. She couldn't be, it was too good to be true. Ennis was staring at her with a gobsmacked expression on his face. Junior sighed. "Daddy…I want to start there in the fall. I got pretty good grades, and you always said I had a good head on my shoulders. 'Bout time I put it some use, don't you think? I want to move out here and learn how the ranch runs. You can teach me that. I can get a business degree, and I can help you run this place."

Ennis looked at him again as if he had the answers, then back at his daughter. "Junior…are you serious?"

"Of course I'm serious!" she exclaimed. "Haven't you thought about the future, Daddy? Have either of you thought about it? You guys won't live forever, and you sure as hell aren't going to have any kids! Who's going to take over this place when you're gone?" Her voice softened. "Who's going to be here to take care of you when you're old? Who's going to make sure that what you built here together goes on, and doesn't die with you?"

Jack _had_ thought about it, frequently, although he and Ennis had never discussed it. Presumably they'd sell the place once they became unable to run it themselves…but that was so cold, so impersonal. In his wild flights of fancy he and Ennis somehow raised a child themselves and passed the business on to them, but barring a cooperative surrogate or an insanely open-minded adoption agency _that_ wasn't going to happen. "Sweetheart," Ennis said, controlling himself with visible effort. "This is a real big decision, and I cain't imagine that you've…"

"I've been thinkin' about this a long time, Daddy." She shook her head. "I need to get out of Riverton. Ain't nothin' there for me but a bunch of roughnecks sniffing around like dogs on the scent. I see the life ahead, and I don't much like it. Marry some guy, get a crappy house, have some kids, just exist from day to day, livin' hand to mouth and never enough for a new dress or a nice dinner. I've been comin' out here for years, and…well, I've seen what else there is. You guys made somethin' of yourselves, and I can do it to." She sighed. "I can't hardly stand it there no more, Daddy. Me 'n Bill fight all the time. He says I think too well 'o myself, and Mamma don't never back me up."

"What's she think 'o your plans?" Ennis asked.

"She says I'm of age and I can do as I like." She sniffed. "Sometimes I think she'd be glad to have the extra room in the house." She looked up at Ennis with apprehension. "But she warned me that…well, that you might not want me here all the time. You might not want the trouble. She says you prob'ly like your privacy." The fact that Alma could think such a thing made Jack wonder how they'd stayed married for a single year, let alone twelve.

Ennis reached out and clasped Junior's hand in both of his. "She thought I might not _want_ you here?" he repeated, aghast. "You know how often I've wished to have you and Francie close by? I never thought of wishin' to have you _here_, that seemed to far-fetched even for a wish. I never…" He stopped and cut his eyes away. Jack laid a hand on his shoulder, giving it a quick squeeze. Ennis got himself under control and turned back to his daughter. "You girls are the only thing missin' in my life, Junior. If you're serious, and you really want to come live here, then…all I wanna know is when you're movin'."

Junior smiled. "Really?" She cut her eyes to Jack, who could only grin and nod, not trusting himself to speak just yet. The one thing he couldn't give Ennis was his daughters back, and if Junior meant to do for Ennis what Jack could not, then she'd have Jack's eternal gratitude. "It's really okay?"

Ennis's eyes were fixed on their joined hands. He swallowed hard. "Havin' my little girl home is more'n okay. It'd be my honor, sweetheart."

He and Junior just smiled at each other for a few beats, then Junior flinched. "Oh my, I gotta be in Middlebury in an hour. Can I take one of the trucks?"

"The trucks'r both stick shifts, honey, and I know you cain't drive one."

Jack stood up and went to the pegboard by the back door. He plucked a fob off a ring of keys and tossed it to Junior without a second thought. "Here," he said. "Take the Mercedes, honey. It's an automatic."

Junior got up, giggling. "My, won't I be fancy pulling up to that admissions office? They'll wonder what a rich girl like me's doing at CCV." She started to head out to the living room.

"Junior?" Ennis said, quietly. She paused and turned back. Ennis rose from the table and went to stand before her. Junior smiled up at her father as he put a hand on her shoulder, then pulled her into a tight embrace. Jack lurked nearby, feeling an interloper, but then Junior reached out to himand pulled him in. Jack felt one of her arms go around his back, and then one of Ennis's, and he was there. He was in the circle, their family circle. _Our_ family circle, he corrected himself, blinking back tears.

After a few moments Junior pulled back. She kissed Ennis's cheek and then Jack's. "I'll be back this evening," she said. "If I get back early enough I'll come by the fair."

"You knock 'em dead, sweetheart," Ennis said. "Drive safe, now."

"I will!" Liz heard her call back. "I'll be real careful with your car, Jack!"

"Oh, why don't you leave the keys in it?" Jack called. "Maybe someone'll steal it, and I can use the insurance money to get a Jeep or somethin'."

Silence fell in the breakfast nook as the door shut behind Junior. Jack watched Ennis's face, seeing the emotions there only by virtue of years of practiced observation. Ennis fetched a deep, shaky sigh. Jack reached out for his hand and Ennis immediately extended it, gripping Jack's fingers tightly. "My little girl, rodeo," Ennis murmured. He turned towards Jack, his eyes welling up. Jack raised one hand to Ennis's face, stroking his thumb across his cheek, then pulled Ennis into his arms. He came easily, folding himself against Jack's chest. "I cain't believe it," he said, the words muffled against Jack's shoulder.

Jack held him for a few moments, until Ennis pulled back and met his eyes, frowning. "It's okay with you, ain't it?"

Jack goggled at him. How could Ennis think that this would be a problem for him? "Ennis, the hell? Of _course_ it is! I think it's perfect, it's the best thing that coulda happened!"

Ennis grasped his shoulders. "Look here, Jack. I know how you think. This don't mean that now it'll be me and Junior all family-like, and you sort of taggin' along." He blinked a few times and hugged Jack again, fiercely, his hands gripping big handfuls of Jack's shirt. "This is gonna be _our_ family now, see? You 'n me and Junior. That's how it is, y'hear me, darlin'?"

Jack nodded, squeezing Ennis tighter. Junior's efforts to bridge the gap between herself and Jack this morning now made a lot more sense in context, if she'd known she was going to be proposing this.

Ennis drew back and kissed Jack once, then twice. "Jack fuckin' Twist," he murmured, shaking his head like he still couldn't believe they were both here, and that this was all really happening. Jack knew the feeling. "Well, enough makin' out in the breakfast nook," he said, heading out to the kitchen with a parting swat to Jack's behind. "You best get the lead out, rodeo. They expectin' you at the fairgrounds in half an hour."

Jack flinched, looking at his watch. "Oh, shit," he muttered, and took off running towards the front door.

* * *

Marianne was very, very particular about where the curled strips of lemon rind were to be placed on her inevitably prize-winning cheesecakes. Liz bent over the last one, a curl of rind held in tweezers, inching it towards the cake's smooth surface like an astronaut trying to dock a spaceship. "Good," Marianne said, her first word of praise in two hours.

Liz exhaled, sitting back. The cakes were, indeed, beautiful. "I'm sure you'll win," she said.

Marianne shrugged. "They'll taste as good whether I do or not. Well, we'd best wash up, it'll be time to head out pretty soon."

Liz brought some of the baking dishes to the sink, pausing to look at a few framed photos on a wall-mounted shelf near the breakfast nook. She saw several of the girls, and one of a boy with Jack's smile who had to be Bobby. There was one of Jack and Ennis with a large, gleaming horse. Ennis was holding the reins, Jack standing at his side, both smiling broadly. Jack was wearing a strappy t-shirt, his arms bare, and Liz bent closer. "Marianne?"

"Yeah?"

"What's this?"

Marianne came to look at what Liz was pointing at. It was a horizontal ridge of scar tissue on Jack's left bicep. "Oh, that. They didn't tell you that story?"

"No."

"Well, I'll do the honors. I was actually with them when that happened, so I can give you a firsthand account." She motioned for Liz to join her at the sink, talking as she washed and Liz dried. "This was…oh, two years ago. I'd been working here for a year. Rory Duchamp has some wild land on his property, he'd invited the boys to come over and shoot some grouse. I went along, because no one at Rory's knows how to dress a bird decently. At the time, we had a groom called Souter. Stupidest boy to ever walk the earth, but he was a decent enough groom. He fancied himself a marksman and asked to come along, so Ennis said okay." Marianne paused to heft a large mixing bowl onto the drying towel. She turned around and leaned against the sink, her eyes downcast, visualizing the story she was telling.

"Anyway, we got over to Rory's and headed out. I stuck with Ennis, mostly. Jack was about fifty yards away, and that damn fool kid was all over the place. I could tell he was making Ennis nervous, the way he was slinging that gun around. Anyone who _really_ knows about guns always respects them, and he didn't. Well, the dogs scared a whole flock of grouse out of the brush and Souter just went nuts. Didn't hit anything, of course, but he took one more shot at it. He tracked one last bird, a low-flying one, and got a bead on it. Trouble was, he was so intent on the bird that he didn't see he was aiming straight at Jack."

Liz's eyes went wide. "He _shot_ him?"

"Ennis saw where he was pointing that gun just a split second before he pulled the trigger. No time to get Souter to hold his fire, so he just yelled for Jack to get down. Too late. Souter fired, and I saw Jack jerk backwards and fall on the ground." Liz watched Marianne's face, riveted. Marianne raised her head and looked at her. "You know, some people who think they know better say that what they feel isn't as good as what men and women feel. They say it isn't the same, it doesn't deserve to be treated the same." She pursed her lips. "Maybe I even said so, once upon a time. But no one would ever say that if they'd seen the expression on Ennis's face when he thought Jack was shot." She crossed her arms over her chest. "I've never seen such a look of horror on anyone, not before or since. And the way he screamed his name…I can still hear it, in my head. It was awful, just awful." Marianne seemed to shake herself out of her reverie and continued. "Anyway, he took off running so fast that his hat flew right off his head. Souter saw what he'd done and he fainted dead away. I ran after Ennis, and when we got to Jack he was already sitting up. His sleeve was bloody, but he was okay. Madder than a hornet's nest, but okay. For a second, I thought Ennis was going to throw up. He sat down on the ground and put his head down for a minute until he got himself pulled together, then he tore Jack's sleeve to bandage the wound. The bullet just grazed his arm, the wound was barely a quarter inch deep. But it was too close. That kid damn near killed him, and you can bet that he was fired that same day, with extreme prejudice." Marianne took a breath. "And that is the story of Jack's scar, the end."

Liz smiled. "I bet you have a lot of stories about them."

"I have a few." She turned back to the sink and pulled out the flatware. "Good news about Junior. I suspected she might be planning something like this."

"Really?"

"Last few times she's visited, she's asked me a lot of questions about the ranch, and how it runs. And I think she's been trying extra hard to make her peace with her daddy's personal life. When she moves here, she'll have to face the reality of it day in and day out, and I think she's been preparing herself. Sharing the same roof, she wouldn't be able to keep up that fantasy of how her daddy lives here with his close, personal friend, and that they share a bedroom just to cut down on the laundry."


	9. Chapter 9

**A/N**: _To answer a few questions posed in the comments to the most recent chapter:_

_1. A few people have asked if I'm a professional writer. Yes, I am. But this is my first attempt at slash or m/m fic of any kind. I've only written het in the past.  
2. No, Liz and Marianne are not going to get together. Marianne is married and has two kids. And Liz is straight.  
3. Yes, I'm getting to that sex talk scene. Patience.  
4. Yes, there will be stuff about Bobby._

_This new chapter is a bit different. I hope it won't be boring or disappointing. Most of it takes place at the dairy fair that's been mentioned, and most of it involves other townspeople and their reactions (good or bad) to Ennis and Jack. But it does give a taste of that Protective!Ennis that people seem so fond of. I have a feeling that after this one I might just slow down a leeeeetle bit. I can't keep this up, staying awake until three in the morning night after night because I can't stop writing. And after the intolerable amount of typos in the last two chapters, I checked this one like three times. So if you find typos, don't tell me because I might cry._

_

* * *

_

Liz felt light as a feather. Her seat belt was the only thing keeping her from floating out of Ennis's truck, she was so buoyant. It was a gorgeous June day, the sun was shining and a fresh breeze was blowing, and she was being driven to a honest-to-God county fair through some of the most picturesque scenery in the country. The man behind the wheel was whistling tunelessly, the silence between them was comfortable and easygoing, and she felt that she would never tire of his company.

She looked across at Ennis. A slight smile was lingering on his mouth and his skin was smooth with more peace than she'd ever seen there. "I bet you're happy about Junior," she said.

He glanced at her. "Happy ain't the word, city gal." He rubbed his chin. "I was just thinkin', though. She'll be nineteen by the time she gets here in the fall, and that's too old not to have your own space. There ain't nothin' in our basement but a bunch of concrete walls. Maybe we could finish it off and make her a nice little apartment down there."

Liz nodded. "That's an idea."

Ennis thought for a moment. "You know, me 'n Jack have been talkin' 'bout tearin' down that ugly old shed and buildin' a guest house. Some of our business associates travel a ways to come here, and we thought it'd be nice to have someplace to put 'em up…but for Junior, that'd be even better. Build a little bungalow for her, coupla bedrooms, her own kitchen and such." He nodded. "Yeah, that's the thing. Then if'n she were to get married or somethin' she could still stay at the ranch. Jack c'n call the builder on Monday." He began whistling again, smiling and pleased with himself.

Liz was a little taken aback that Ennis could so easily suggest a moderately large building project to be undertaken at once. She made another mental note to find out exactly how the ranch made money to the degree it seemed to.

For the time being, she asked another question she'd been meaning to pose the next time she had Ennis alone. "Have you ever met Lureen?"

He shook his head. "No. I've heard her voice on the phone, just long enough to realize it's her 'n holler for Jack." He shook his head. "She's always polite 'n all, but I do wonder what goes on in her head."

"Why's that?"

He sighed, that _you're-makin'-me-talk_ sigh again. Liz suppressed a smile. By now, at least she was confident that he _would_ talk. "There's a lot of stuff she 'n Jack never talked about. I ain't never said so, it ain't my affair, but I never thought he did quite right by her."

"How?"

"Well…when he heard 'bout my divorce, he come up to see me. He never told Lureen what he was hopin' would happen, 'o course. When we decided what we was gonna do, he called her 'n told her he was leavin' her, jus' like that." He grunted. "Musta seemed powerful sudden from her end. That's Jack for ya. He c'n be real impulsive." He hesitated. "Truth be told, I don't rightly get how it was so easy for him t'leave Bobby. He ain't so fatherly as me, never really wanted a family like I did. That was the biggest part o' what kept me from him, was the girls. Tell you what, though, I never coulda been so quick to leave no woman I'd lain with for twelve years. She didn't kick up no fuss…truth be told, I think she was half-glad t'be rid of him…but he didn't see her more'n twice more while they was signin' the papers and now he ain't seen her since."

"He never goes back to Texas?"

"No," Ennis said, sharply. "It ain't safe."

"Why?"

"Folks was talkin' 'bout him back there 'afore he left. He ain't as good at keepin' secrets as me. If'n he were t'go back there, might be trouble. Naw, Bobby always comes here to visit. So he ain't seen Lureen since we moved here. They talk now'n again, mostly 'bout Bobby."

"What's he like?"

"He's a nice enough young fella. Hard worker. Looks at me like he expects me to try'n grab his franks 'n beans at any moment." Ennis sighed. "I gave up on tryin' t'be friendly with him years ago. Jack told me that nothin' I could say would undo all the crap L.D. Newsome pours into that boy's brain. Hell, he's barely civil with Jack. Only visits 'cause Lureen makes him. When he's here I usually make myself scarce." They were pulling into the grass field next to the fairgrounds. Liz could see tents scattered among the buildings and animal pens. "Well, here we are. Hope you're hungry, Lizzie. Every cheesemaker and orchardman in this part of the state'll be wantin' you to try their wares."

They parked and joined the people filtering in from the parking lot to the fairground entrance. Liz noted with some amusement a shift come over Ennis as they approached. His face went from open to impassive, his shoulders drew in slightly and his chin ducked down a bit. He was hailed several times as they entered the fairgrounds; he acknowledged with a nod and a finger to the brim of his hat.

The fair was everything she'd expected. The paths were strewn with hay to keep the dust and mud under control. The smell of popcorn and barbecue filled the air, and everyone seemed to be eating something. The livestock and agricultural exhibitions were grouped to the south, where the barns and stables were, and the other competitions and exhibits were lined up along the midway paths to the north. She walked at Ennis's side, feeling very much a city gal, watching his eyes flicking quickly here and there, searching. She knew what he was looking for. She remembered what it was like to be in love and have your eyes turn into homing beacons, always scanning for the person whose signal set up that resonance in your brain. She saw his narrow eyes hesitate and lock, and a slight smile crease his lips. She followed his gaze and saw Jack with a man and a woman, all of them carrying clipboards and moving from stall to stall in one of the nearby cow barns. She elbowed Ennis. "Wanna go say hi?"

He shook his head, flushing a little and shuffling in embarrassment. "Naw, he's busy. I oughta go see how Rory's doin' at his booth." He looked down at her. "You don't hafta stick with me, if you wanna wander around. I ain't much of a joiner, and you prob'ly wanna ask every damn person you see what they think of us, dontcha?" he said, his eyes twinkling.

Liz grinned. "You've got my number already, Ennis."

He winked. "It ain't hard, Lizzie." He set off towards the aisle where the dairy farmers had set up booths of their best products, leaving Lizzie to look around, wondering where to go next.

She walked past the baking contest, waving to Marianne where she sat waiting to be judged, and headed towards the center of the fairgrounds. Celtic-sounding music was coming from some sort of pavilion, and the crowds grew thicker as she progressed.

Suddenly, she heard her name. "Liz! Hey, Liz!"

She turned around. "Oh, Dr. McGill! How nice to see you again!" She shook the veterinarian's hand.

"Nice to see you, too. How are you enjoying life on the ranch?"

"I may never leave."

He laughed. "Yeah, it happened to me. Liz, I'd like you to meet Roger, my partner," he said, turning to the man standing next to him. Roger was tall, with salt-and-pepper hair and a trim goatee. Liz shook his hand. "Roger's an attorney."

"I know, Ennis told me."

"Where are those two, anyway?" Roger asked. "They're awful brave to leave you alone to ask impertinent questions," he said, grinning.

"Oh, they're around," Liz said. "Jack's judging some kind of contest, and Ennis just went off to see a friend." A thought crossed her mind. "Actually, now that you mention it…can I buy you guys a drink and pick your brains?"

* * *

They had a beer at the barbecue tent and found a table in the corner. "How well do you know that ranch?" Liz asked Paul.

"Pretty well. I look after all their stock and horses, so I'm there at least once a month, sometimes more."

"I've been dying to ask someone about the finances. They live pretty simply, but just from some things they've said…well, they have to be turning a healthy profit. I'm not asking for any confidential information, I'd just like to understand how they do it."

Paul and Roger exchanged a glance. "Liz," Paul said. "It's way beyond a healthy profit. Do you not…no, I guess you wouldn't know."

"Know what?"

"That ranch pulls in over a million dollars a year."

Liz's mouth dropped open. "Are you kidding? Seriously?"

"If not more. You'd never know it from how they live, but Jack and Ennis are rich men. And a lot of that business has helped this town."

She hesitated. "Do you think that has anything to do with the degree to which they're accepted around here?"

"Maybe a little. But Roger and me…well, I won't claim that we've never had a problem, but we've been accepted too, and we're regular guys."

"How is it that ranch does so well? It isn't that large, as ranches go, is it?"

"No, it isn't, although it's larger than you probably realize. But you're right, it isn't the herds that bring in the money. Jack probably hasn't told you, because he's not one to brag."

Liz laughed. "Jack brags _all the time!_" she exclaimed.

Paul grinned. "Sure. About rodeoing, and horse training, and deer hunting. Things he enjoys, but isn't especially good at. He'll talk your ear off about all that. But when it comes to the thing he's _actually_ good at, he's surprisingly close-mouthed. Sometimes I think he doesn't want to jinx it by speaking its name aloud."

"What's that?"

"Jack has a spooky kind of gift for animal breeding. He can look at the animals and see how they'll combine, he goes in knowing what he wants and he can see it in them even when it won't be there until the second generation. He spent the first couple of years on the ranch breeding exactly the kind of animals they wanted to raise."

"What kind are those?"

"Early on, Jack figured out that the real money was not in the commercial beef industry, but in what you might call the high-end meat market. Their head go to specialized butchers who sell to gourmet restaurants and food distributors that cater to wealthier tastes. They raise the kind of beef that can easily sell for double the price per pound as your standard USDA grade beef. To make it in that kind of market, you have to raise livestock of the highest quality, and for that, you need an eye for husbandry. That's what Jack's got." Paul leaned forward. "They've got five steers right now. Four of them are national champions. Do you have any idea the kind of stud fees they collect?" Liz shook her head. "Five thousand dollars a pop. Each steer has as many as ten stops per month around the country in the heavy breeding season. That's as much as fifty grand a month, _per steer._"

"And there's that much demand?"

"In the heavy season, they can't keep up. They have to turn some down. And of course there's also the sale of their stock, whether it's to dairy farms or butchers. You can see how it adds up fast."

Liz's mind was boggling. "So…all this success is Jack's doing?" She'd never gotten that vibe from anyone on the ranch.

Paul smiled. "Hardly. Jack may have a knack for breeding, but he'd be lost without Ennis, and I don't just mean personally. When they set up, Jack didn't know the first thing about running a ranch efficiently. That place is like a well-oiled machine, and it's Ennis's doing. Jack brings the business and runs the numbers, but Ennis makes that ranch function."

"Sounds like a good partnership."

"It is. It's the perfect partnership, business-wise. They got lucky, and they made some smart decisions, and now they're reaping the rewards."

Ennis came around the corner, munching on some deep-fried cheese curds from a cardboard carton. "Here you are," he said, taking a seat. "Howdy Paul, Roger."

"Ennis, Craig McCutcheon told me to tell you that he's got a lead on some equipment, if you can stop by this afternoon."

Ennis grunted. "Last time I talked t'that guy I nearly decked him one."

Roger nodded sympathetically. "I hear you, friend."

Liz looked around at their faces. "What?"

Roger rolled his eyes. "You'll see."

Ennis got up and threw away the empty carton. "C'mon, city gal. I ain't facin' this jackass alone."

* * *

Craig McCutcheon turned out to be a dairy equipment dealer. Liz remembered the mayor telling her that Ennis and Jack were thinking of expanding into the dairy business, which seemed like a huge undertaking to her, but it was their ranch and their money. Craig had a large booth featuring a new, high-tech milking machine that looked like some kind of medieval torture device.

She felt Ennis steel himself as they approached the booth. "Del Mar!" Craig cried, with transparently excessive enthusiasm. "Was hoping I'd see you around here today!"

Ennis nodded. "Afternoon, Craig," he said, with an absolutely minimum of lip movement.

"How are things at that lovely ranch of yours?"

"Fine."

"And business is going well, then?"

"Great."

"And, uh…no trouble in paradise, then?" Craig said, grinning and winking. Liz got the picture. Even had the frame.

Ennis's face was stony. "Doc said you had somethin' for me?" he said, not bothering to respond to McCutcheon's last remark.

"Right. I know you've been researching dairy equipment and I wanted to let you know I've got a line on a farm that's closing up near Burlington. All their machinery's less than two years old, you might be able to get it all for a song."

Ennis nodded. "That's a real good tip, Craig. Thanks."

"Well…you want me to show you some estimates?"

"I'll wanna talk to Jack about that before we put in a bid." Ennis gave a curt nod and turned to leave.

Craig laughed. "Oh, sure! No problem. I understand, gotta run it by the missus first! I hear you, my man!" He reached out and slapped Ennis's shoulder. Liz winced inwardly. Ennis's face had gone even stonier, if that was possible.

He turned back. "I don't make decisions 'bout the ranch without talkin' t'my business partner," Ennis said, through tight lips.

Craig held up his hands. "No need to explain, Ennis! I just bet you don't! Not if you don't wanna spend a week on the couch, right?" He cackled again. Liz saw Ennis's fists clenching and put a hand on his arm. It was hard as concrete.

"Let's go," she hissed at him.

Ennis let her lead him away. He started to relax as they left Craig's booth behind them. Ennis blew air out through his teeth. "I dunno why that guy gets to me," he muttered.

"I know the type, and I understand."

"What type's that?"

"Sometimes people want to seem open-minded even if they aren't, so instead of calling you rude names or being hostile, they mask it by turning it into a joke. It's just another way of demeaning you, and trivializing your relationship."

Ennis was looking down at her. "Well, hell. That makes some kinda sense. Whyn't I think of that?"

"Because your mind doesn't work that way, Ennis. And I'm glad it doesn't."

They'd reached the central pavilion, where Liz found herself hailed again by another familiar voice. "Well, look who's still hanging around!" the mayor said, pushing through the crowd to shake her hand.

Liz grinned, glad to see him again. "It's nice to see you, Bill."

"Hey there, Ennis," Bill said, shaking Ennis's hand, actually earning something resembling a smile in return. "You must be treating this young lady all right if she's stayed this long."

Ennis shrugged. "Y'know, I thought she'd mind sleepin' in the storm cellar and muckin' out the stables three times a day, but she ain't complained yet." Liz stared at him, stunned. Had Ennis just cracked a _joke_? He winked at her while Bill laughed. Ennis checked his watch. "Well, that contest oughta be done by now. I'm gonna go see if Jack's finished. I'll catch up with you in a bit, Lizzie. Afternoon, Bill." He touched her arm and set off towards the stables.

"How do you find our fair town, Liz?" Bill asked.

She was starting to have a stock answer to this frequently-asked question. "A little bit of heaven."

"And is that story you were so excited about shaping up to be as interesting as you'd hoped?"

"More than I imagined. In fact, it might be less of an article and more of a book."

"A book, is that so? I'm surprised Ennis didn't toss you out on your tail-feathers the minute you mentioned it."

Liz leaned closer. "I'm changing their names and location," she said, confidentially.

Bill chuckled. "Oh, no doubt." He wasn't looking at her, but across the clearing at a hearty, good-looking gray-haired man who seemed to be a person of some significance. "See that fella?" Bill said, his voice low so only Liz could hear.

"Yes. Who's that? He's popular."

"His name's Stan Forrester. New in town. Just opened up a restaurant downtown, and it's doing real well. He's the big news these past few weeks, everyone wants to be his friend."

Liz frowned. "You don't sound too happy about that."

"I did a little digging, because I'm powerful nosy, and come to find out that he's from Kansas." He hesitated, then met Liz's eyes. "Where he was acquitted of the attempted murder of a gay man, an attack I'm told he almost certainly orchestrated." He said this in a neutral tone.

Liz looked back at the man. He didn't look like a bad person, but then who did? "That must be why he moved so far away."

"That was my thought. It seems he was a member of some extreme religious group back there, some kind of holy-rolling speaking-in-tongues sort of thing. They blame just about everything bad in the world on Jews and homosexuals." Bill sighed. "So far, he's keeping quiet. He's been going to the Methodist church and being real friendly. In my experience, though, nobody can bury their real feelings for too long. If he aims to start up a group like his, he might just be waiting to figure out who might be amenable. And I'm sure that he's already heard that two of our most prominent citizens rank real high on his Most Hated list."

"At least he won't have much luck finding like-minded people here."

Bill sighed. "I wish I was so sure of that, Liz. Vermonters are very attached to the philosophy of live and let live, but sometimes I wonder if a big part of their tolerance isn't apathy. It's just too much trouble to make life hard for the queer ranchers. But given a single, charismatic voice of leadership…it can get ugly, even when you never thought it could."

"I just don't believe that…" Liz fell silent. "Oh, no," she murmured. Across the clearing, Jack was walking up to Stan Forrester. Liz didn't see Ennis. "Have they met?"

"I don't think so. Jack looks like he intends to remedy that."

Liz pushed through the crowd and got to Jack's side just as he reached Forrester. He stuck his hand out. "You're Stan Forrester, ain't you?" he said.

Forrester smiled, a white-toothed politician's smile. "I am, sir."

"Well, I been meanin' to make your acquaintance, seein's you're new in town and all."

"That's very nice of you, sir. Where are you from? Your accent puts me in mind of home."

"I'm from Wyoming, but I spent a good many years in Childress, Texas."

"Lovely country. And what is your name, sir?"

"I'm Jack Twist. Pleased to meet you. I own the…" The smile fell from Jack's face and his voice trailed off. Liz looked from him to Forrester, whose face had drained of color and expression upon hearing Jack's name. Forrester jerked his hand away, and before Jack could react, he hauled back and punched Jack hard across the face, knocking him onto his back in the hay-strewn dirt.

The nearby fair-goers jumped back, gasping in surprise. Liz crouched by Jack's head. His mouth and nose were bleeding and his eyes looked a little twirly. A man Liz didn't know knelt on Jack's other side, glaring up at Jack's attacker.

Forrester loomed over Jack, his fist clenched and his face red with outrage. "Don't you touch me, you filthy faggot!" he growled. More gasps from the crowd. Liz saw a number of angry faces, but no one was doing anything to stop Forrester, who seemed to have forgotten where he was. "I've heard about you, living out on that ranch with your _lover_," he said, spitting the word. "How dare you come out among decent Christian people?"

Jack was sitting up now, his eyes clearing and his brow clouding with anger. Liz tried to staunch the blood flowing from his nose but he pushed her away. "Yeah, that's real Christian of you, to knock a man down's just tryin' t'be sociable."

"Get up and I'll do it again," Forrester said, advancing.

Liz cringed, but then Ennis appeared out of nowhere and stepped between Jack and Forrester. "You wanna step back now, y'hear?" he growled.

"Ennis, I can handle…" Jack started to say.

"You got a problem?" Ennis said to Forrester, ignoring Jack. "You deal with me now. You touch my man again and I will knock your fuckin' teeth down your throat."

"You must be the other one," Forrester said, his voice dripping with disgust. "Back home we knew how to deal with cocksucking trash like you."

"You shut your mouth!" came a new voice. A short, pudgy man in overalls stepped out of the crowd, his face red with fury. "There's decent folks here, women and children. You keep your filthy tongue in your head!"

"You decent folks defendin' these faggots?" Forrester demanded. Liz was starting to feel sick. This could turn even uglier than it already was at any moment. She kept one arm around Jack's shoulders where he still sat on the ground, one hand to his head, his shirt stained with blood.

The overall man wasn't done. "That man you hit, he paid for my boy's funeral when I couldn't afford to give him a proper send-off. And this man here," he said, nodding towards Ennis, "he helped build the Marches a new house when they lost theirs in a lightning storm. They're good folks and you got no right saying such things to them."

The mayor pushed through the crowd, accompanied by the sheriff, who Liz had not yet met. He was about fifty and looked like Clint Eastwood. "What's going on here? Ennis?"

Ennis was still glaring at Forrester, his fists clenched. "Man hit Jack, Walter. Now he's calling us vile names and makin' trouble."

The sheriff leaned over Jack. "You all right?"

"I'll live," Jack said. Liz steadied him as he stood up.

The stranger who'd knelt by Jack spoke up. "This man was just introducing himself when this other guy clocks him one out of the clear blue sky."

The sheriff turned to Forrester, who looked a little deflated, perhaps sensing that he wasn't going to get any applause for the unprovoked assault. He seemed to be coming to the realization that he'd just exposed his bigotry in front of several hundred potential customers. "You having a bad day, Mr. Forrester? Or is your fuse just that short that a man's nice-to-meet-you sets you off?"

"It sets me off when the man's a cocksucking queerboy. I think he's a disgrace and you have no right to stop me from saying so."

"No, I sure don't. You believe what you like, Mr. Forrester, and you say what you like. It's a free country. But I sure as hell can arrest you for assault, and I'll do it with pleasure." He took out a pair of cuffs.

Jack held out his hand. "No, Walter, it's all right. I ain't gonna press no charges."

Ennis turned around. "Jack, this son of a bitch hit you!"

"Yes, Ennis, I was there. I ain't pressin' charges."

Liz took his arm. "He shouldn't get away with it," she said.

Jack glanced at her. "Look around, Liz. He won't." She looked around, and everybody who'd witnessed the incident was staring at Forrester with loathing. Something told her that his restaurant might not do such good business after today. "I don't want nobody goin' to jail on my account." He faced Forrester. "You got me once, fella. You won't get me twice, you got it?"

Forrester's lip curled. "I don't care to be this close to you again, faggot."

Ennis stepped right into Forrester's personal space, his nose mere inches away. "Now, you say thank you to Jack for lettin' you off, you piece of shit."

Forrester glared at him, but Ennis was the champion of steely glares and it wasn't long before Forrester sagged a bit and tossed Jack a brief glance. "Much obliged," he mumbled. He drew himself up a bit, turned and walked away. Somebody spit on him as he passed, but he didn't pause.

The sheriff was shaking his head. "You let me know if that guy gives you any more trouble, okay?" he said to Jack, then walked off. "Okay, show's over. Everybody go back to your business."

The knot of onlookers loosened a bit. Ennis turned back towards Jack, who was blotting his nose with his handkerchief. "You all right, darlin'?" he said quietly, putting a hand on Jack's shoulder. Jack shrugged it off.

"I'm _fine_," he snapped.

"God, he got you good, didn't he? Your nose…"

"I said I'm _fine,_" Jack repeated, more forcefully, shooting an angry look at Ennis.

"Well now, what's your fuckin' problem?"

Jack glanced around and took a step closer. "You didn't need t'come chargin' in and _rescue_ me, for Christ's sake," he hissed. "I was _handling_ the situation."

Ennis gaped at him. "You were on the ground, bleedin'! How's that handlin' anythin'?"

Jack threw up his hands and stalked off. Ennis shook his head, his mouth open in disbelief, and went after him. Liz didn't much want to follow, not caring to listen to them fight, but she had a feeling neither of them were coming back to the fair and she didn't fancy having to beg a ride home from the mayor.

Ennis was having trouble keeping up with Jack's long strides as he walked out to the parking field. "Jack, hold up! Jack!"

Jack rounded on him. "What? Ain't you had enough macho posturin' for one day?"

"Posturin'? What the fuck're you talkin' about?"

"I ain't your little woman, Ennis!" Jack shouted. "You don't hafta come ridin' in like some kinda knight on a white horse to defend my honor! I c'n take care 'o myself, you know!"

"What'm I s'posed to do, sit back and watch while some guy beats on you?" Ennis said. "I cain't do that, Jack!"

"But when you don't, it just makes me look like some kinda sissy who needs his man to fight his battles for him! And don't call me 'darlin'!"

Ennis spluttered. "I thought you _liked_ that!"

"Sure, when it's just us! You do it in front of folks and it's just another…" He trailed off and ran a hand through his hair. "Ennis, ain't you ever noticed that when folks make jokes or tease us, I'm always the one getting' called the wifey, or the missus, or God knows what else? People make cracks about me bein' your wife but never about you bein' mine. Why d'you think that is?"

Ennis looked lost without a map. "I dunno." He tried to smile. "I s'pose 'cause you're prettier'n me."

Jack stared at him blankly for a moment, then flapped his hands and stormed off in silence. Ennis stood watching him go, hands in his pockets, then heaved a deep, long-suffering sigh. He glanced at Liz, who was trying to fade into the background nearby. "Well, I guess _that_ wasn't the right answer," he said miserably.

* * *

Ennis lay in bed, waiting for Jack to come out of the bathroom. They hadn't spoken since the debacle at the fair. They'd driven home separately and by the time Ennis arrived, Jack had already saddled up and gone out for a ride. He hadn't come back for dinner, forcing Ennis to make excuses to Junior, who had no idea what was going on.

Jack had finally shown up around eight and gone straight into his office. Ennis had given up and come to bed around eleven, and half an hour later Jack had come in, undressed in silence, and gone into the bathroom. Ennis was starting to wonder how long he'd be getting the silent treatment.

Jack came into the bedroom. He didn't look at Ennis, just came over and sat down on the edge of the bed on Ennis's side, forcing Ennis to scoot over to give him room. He just sat there staring at his hands for a moment. Ennis laid one hand on Jack's thigh. "You still sore at me, rodeo?" he murmured.

Jack sighed. "I'm sorry I got after you like that," he said. "You were just tryin' to help."

"I didn't mean t'embarrass you, or nothin'. Everbody knows you c'n handle yourself."

"Do they?" He turned and looked at Ennis. "Or do they just know that I got you t'handle things for me?"

"I think it's prob'ly both."

Jack half turned and hitched his knee up on the bed so he was facing Ennis. "It's just…sometimes it gets to me that I ain't the alpha dog around here."

"Why's there gotta be just one?" Ennis said. "Cain't we be…I dunno. Co-alpha dogs?"

Jack grinned. "Well, we c'n try, but mos' folks'd still present their bellies to you 'afore they would to me." He thought for a moment. "I'm too smiley, that's what it is."

Ennis chuckled. "Smiley?"

"Yeah. If you're too friendly that means you ain't tough. You're like a fuckin' slab 'o granite, Ennis. People meet us and they think you're a mean, tough sonofabitch and I'm your fun bit 'o fluff on the side."

"I'm sure that ain't so." Jack looked like he had his doubts. Ennis raised a hand to Jack's cheek, wincing at the ugly bruise that was rising there. He felt another surge of anger at that bastard for having left a mark on this face. "Damn, that mus' hurt."

"It ain't no day at the park."

Ennis smiled. "C'mere," he murmured, sliding his hand around the back of Jack's neck and pulling his head down. Jack didn't resist. Ennis pressed his lips to Jack's bruised cheek. "Better?" he whispered.

Jack lifted his legs onto the bed and stretched out next to him. "All kinds."

Ennis held him for a few beats. "Liz said that Forrester fella's some kinda religious nut."

Jack lifted his head. "How's she know that?"

"Says Bill told her. He came here runnin' from some kinda trouble in Kansas where he's from. Attacked a gay man and didn't get no jail time for it."

"Christ, that's just what this town needs. Some crazed maniac runnin' around screamin' about the cocksucking faggots."

Ennis had a sudden mental image of Forrester, a straightjacket flapping around him, flailing and running in circles in the town center shrieking "Cocksucking faggots! Cocksucking faggots!" at the top of his lungs. Jack looked at him as he started to chuckle.

"What's so funny? Yeah, it's fuckin' hilarious. Ennis!" he said sharply, as Ennis's chuckles turned into laughter. "It ain't funny!"

"Lighten up, rodeo. He ain't gonna find no takers. And…well, it's kinda funny." He calmed himself down and nuzzled his face into Jack's neck. "Sorry, darlin'," he said. "I don't mean t'make light."

He felt Jack's arms go around him. "It was a little scary, t'be honest."

"I bet." He ran one hand up and down Jack's side. "But honest. I don't think you gotta worry none 'bout people thinkin' you're my missus." He drew back and met Jack's eyes, then slid one hand between his legs. Jack sucked in a breath, and Ennis felt him start to harden almost at once. "You 'n I know that you're all man," he murmured, winking.

Jack grinned and pushed Ennis onto his back. "You're gonna find out, smartass."


	10. Chapter 10

**A/N:** _Well, so much for my taking a break. And this is NOT the end, although the chapter ends with a touch of "the end" feeling to it._

* * *

The dream was a different this time. Usually Ennis saw Jack walking, or driving, before he was set upon by the men with the tire irons. Tonight, the dream was especially cruel, because it snuck up on him. It came to his sleeping mind in the guise of a pleasant dream and set him up with illusions of happiness and comfort. He was sitting on the top crossbar of one of the log fences. The sky was blue; he could hear the stock lowing and the river burbling. Jack was standing between his knees and they were kissing, slow and leisurely kisses of the kind that might go on for hours and hours, the kind they rarely had time for in their waking lives. Jack's arms were around him and he felt safe and loved, like nothing could ever hurt them here on their own land, so long as they held on to each other. Jack was warm and strong, and Ennis was filled with a profound sense of peace.

He ran his hands up into Jack's hair, but when he pulled them back, he was clutching big handfuls of it. He stared at his fingers as Jack's hair blew away in the breeze. He looked up at Jack, who was smiling and didn't seem to realize what was happening. Dark patches of fog gathered around them and solidified into faceless men who seized Jack by the arms and dragged him away. Ennis reached out to help him, but he couldn't get off the fence. One of the men pushed him and he fell over backwards into the paddock. The fence was suddenly as tall as the sky, and Ennis could only look through the gaps between the logs and watch while the men with the tire irons grabbed Jack's arms and pulled them clean off. Ennis was screaming and screaming, but no sound was coming out. He saw that Jack was still smiling as the men tore him limb from limb. The last thing he saw was Jack's head, knocked off his body with one swing of the tire iron, and it landed at his feet, still smiling.

Ennis jerked awake, gasping and sweating. "Fuck," he muttered, raising his hands to his face to muffle the sobs that wanted to burst from his chest. Jack rolled over, blinking.

"Ennis?" he said, his voice thick. He saw the state Ennis was in and his expression grew alarmed. "You have a bad dream?" Ennis couldn't speak. He reached out and pulled Jack close, wrapping his arms around his blessedly whole and unharmed body. Jack didn't question him, just let Ennis clutch him for a few moments. "It's okay," Jack murmured. "Just a nightmare."

But Ennis couldn't shake the feeling that it wasn't just a nightmare. It had been coming to him more and more frequently in the last month. He'd had it three times in the past week, and now this newly horrifying version of it had been visited upon him. He knew he'd be seeing those images behind his eyelids for a long time. "Yeah," he said, his voice sounding shaky to his own ears. "Just a bad dream."

Jack stroked Ennis's hair as his breathing returned to normal. "Better get some sleep, cowboy," he whispered. "We gotta get up for church in a few hours."

Jack started to roll away but Ennis held him back. "Jack, I…" He had never been very good at articulating what he wanted or needed, and his disorientation wasn't helping. Jack was looking at him with raised eyebrows, waiting. Ennis put a hesitant hand on Jack's smooth chest. "Can we…um…" He shook his head, averting his eyes. "D'you mind?" he finally muttered. "I mean…if you don't…"

Jack kissed him to cut off the awkward plea, then slid closer, nodding. "C'mere," he whispered, kissing him again. Ennis kissed back, relieved. He rolled Jack onto his back and settled between his legs, then dove into his mouth searching for the reassurance he knew didn't exist. Still, as Jack writhed beneath him, whispering his name as Ennis thrust into him, he could at least be reassured that Jack was here, he was whole, and he was as safe as Ennis knew how to make him.

* * *

Liz collected herself and made sure she'd stopped shaking before she headed back into the house. She hurried through the living room and down the hall to Jack and Ennis's room.

She knocked sharply, then opened the door and poked her head in, not caring what she might see. They were just sleeping, Jack on his side, facing away from her, and Ennis on his stomach. Ennis was lifting his head, blinking. "Ennis!" she said, not bothering to temper her voice. "Jack! Wake up!" Jack rolled over and sat up, rubbing his eyes.

"Lizzie? What the hell…what timezit?"

"It's just after seven. Come on, get up. Something's happened."

Ennis's eyes snapped open. "Junior?"

"No, she's still asleep. I'm getting her up next. Just get dressed, you've got to see something." She shut the door and turned around to rouse Junior.

A few minutes later she led all three of them out the front door, a mini-parade of pajama bottoms and hastily grabbed t-shirts. "I woke up early this morning and decided to go out for a walk," she explained, leading them across the dooryard towards the hay barn, the building nearest the road. It was painted a neat red-and-white and sat on a slight rise, making it easily visible from both directions. "I was coming back when I saw it."

They rounded the corner of the barn. Junior gasped and stopped short, her hands flying to her face. Jack kept walking, craning his neck and trying to see it all at once. Ennis stood next to Junior, his face an impassive mask.

On the side of the barn, in rough letters that stretched from ground to eaves and covered the barn's full length, was the word **FAGGOTS** in bright white paint.

"Oh my God," Junior cried, her voice shaking.

"Holy hell," Ennis muttered, shaking his head. Liz could see his jaw clenching. Jack was standing dead center in front of the defaced barn, staring up at it with his hands on his hips. Junior made her way towards him, stumbling a few times because she couldn't take her eyes off of it.

Liz looked away. She'd seen enough. The shock of seeing that word on the barn was leaving her with an adrenaline hangover and a sick feeling in the pit of her stomach. She looked up at Ennis's face. "Forrester?" she said quietly.

He sighed. "If it ain't, then the timing's a bitch of a coincidence. But that ain't what concerns me."

"I know."

"He did this in one night…Lizzie, that barn's thirty feet tall. That means ladders, a helluva lotta paint…" Ennis met her eyes, and she saw that he'd reached the same conclusion she had.

She nodded. "He couldn't have done it alone." She turned towards the barn, crossing her arms. "How did no one hear him? Why didn't the dogs bark?"

"Dogs stay with the stock, mostly. This barn don't got no stock, it's far from the paddocks, it's the one you c'n see from the road. He knew what he was about, that's for sure."

Liz and Ennis joined Junior and Jack where they stood. Junior turned to Ennis, tears on her face. "Who did this, Daddy? Who, and why?"

"I cain't say for sure, honey, but I got an idea. We mighta made an enemy of the fella what beat on Jack yesterday at the fair."

"What'll you do?"

"Paint over it, 'o course. But it'll have to wait till tomorrow. I'll get Stubbs to rustle up a crew in the morning and take care of it." He sighed. "I'll have to call Walter, too. He oughta know 'bout this."

Jack suddenly took a step back and gave a brisk nod. "Well, I like it!" he proclaimed in a cheerful voice. "It makes a statement, don'tcha think?" He held up his hands as if framing a picture. "Hell, yes! It works, in a pop-art kinda way! I think we oughta keep it! It'll sure make giving directions to the ranch a helluva lot easier. 'Oh, you cain't miss it! Just turn when you see the barn that says FAGGOTS!' Shit, we c'n paint QUEERBOYS on the garage to match it!" He kicked at the grass, then turned and strode towards the house, a furious expression on his face. "That motherfucker," he muttered as he passed them.

Junior came back to Ennis's side; he put an arm around her shoulders. "It's okay, Junior. We'll set things to rights."

Liz tried to gauge Ennis's emotions and came up blank. "Have you ever had anything like this happen before?" she asked.

He shook his head. "Like this? No way. I'm…" He trailed off. "Christ, I dunno what to say," he murmured.

* * *

The mood in the pickup was grim, to say the least. Jack tried not to look at their profanity-enhanced barn as they left the ranch, but it was a little hard to miss.

Ennis drove in silence. Lizzie had declined their invitation to come along, saying she wasn't much of a church-goer. Junior had begged off so she could squeeze in another ride before they had to take her to the airport that afternoon. They passed through town center, sleepy and quiet on a Sunday morning. Jack couldn't help but glare at Forrester's restaurant as they drove by. "Ennis, wait…pull over." Ennis stopped the truck. "What the hell?"

Gus and Nora Flaubert were sitting in front of the restaurant on folding lawn chairs. "What're they doing?" Ennis said.

"I dunno. Let's go ask 'em."

They got out of the truck and crossed the street. Gus, overall-clad as always, waved and smiled. "Morning!" he said.

"Mornin', Gus."

"You fellas on your way to church?"

"We sure are. Might be inclined to ask why you ain't."

Gus and Nora exchanged a glance. "We're performing a public service."

"You two holdin' down the sidewalk, then?" Jack said with a grin.

"We're just making sure that people who come here know that the owner is a hate-mongering bigot," Nora said.

Jack sagged a bit. He ought to have known. Since he'd paid for their boy Augie's funeral, Gus and Nora had treated him as a kind of low-level god. In his mind he was only making reparations for whatever role he'd played in Augie's death, but the Flauberts didn't see it that way. They were always the first to jump to his defense. "Look, I appreciate the gesture, but…"

"We don't need his kind here," Gus said firmly. "Maybe if his business fails, he'll pick up stakes and leave." He raised his eyebrows. "Although that might happen all by itself. Word's spreading about what happened at the fair. It's been mighty slow this morning."

"Why don't you and Nora come to church?" Jack said. "You c'n ride with us. We'll squeeze."

"Pastor'll understand if we miss one day," Gus said. "This is important."

Jack squatted down in front of them. "Gus, Nora…I'm awful touched that you think so. But if you're interferin' with the man's business…that might be called harassment, and I don't want nobody gettin' in trouble, leas' of all nice folks like you. I don't wanna be the cause of nobody's bad fortune, even Stan Forrester's."

Gus frowned. "If he's got bad fortune, it's his own damned fault."

"I don't disagree. But if'n he ever wanted to make things real ugly, he could claim that I sicced all my friends on him and drove him outta business. I don't want him to have no ammo on me, or on you. You get what I mean?"

Gus shifted a bit. "I didn't think of it that way."

Jack straightened up and laid a hand on Gus's shoulder. "You were jus' tryin' to do right by us." He prayed that Gus hadn't driven by the ranch that morning. "And I appreciate it. Let's just leave the man alone. I think he's more'n capable of diggin' his own grave without our help."

Nora and Gus nodded to each other. "Okay, Jack," she said. "If that's what you want."

"That's what's right, honey. Now, you comin' to church?"

"Oh, we'll be along. We'll just pack up our chairs and get the car."

"Okay, then. We'll see you there." He glanced at Ennis and they headed back to the pickup. Jack could sense Ennis watching him as they got back on the road to their church, Cargill Methodist on the north side. He rested his elbow on the window frame and pinched the bridge of his nose between two fingers, feeling the beginnings of a headache already.

"Lookit you, up there on your moral high ground," Ennis muttered. "How's the view?"

"I'd rather stay up here than let him try'n push me off."

"I think it was nice, what Gus 'n Nora did. And you know damn well that ain't harassment, rodeo. They was on a public sidewalk where they can say 'n do what they please."

"I ain't takin' no chances. We're talkin' 'bout a man who snuck onto our property and somehow arranged to deface the largest barn in this county. I ain't riskin' him getting' any kind 'o grudge against Gus 'n Nora. They're too nice 'n too trustin'. They don't know what they're dealin' with."

They pulled into the church's parking lot. Ennis parked the truck and turned to face him. "Is this another one 'o your stupid 'I don't wanna let no one else fight my battles for me' things?"

"No, this is one 'o my stupid 'Keepin' my friends outta trouble is more important than takin' revenge on some fuckin' nutjob' things."

Ennis nodded. "Well…okay. Just so's we're clear on that."

They were a few minutes late for the start of the service, so they slipped in the back and sat down in one of the last pews. Grant and Martha Linebeck were two pews ahead; they turned and gave them a little wave. Jack caught the mayor's eye across the aisle; they exchanged a grim little nod.

After the service Ennis retreated to the coffee pot to talk horses with Army Robicheaux, as usual, leaving Jack to handle the nice-to-see-you's and ain't-it-a-nice-day's, as usual. He waited for someone to mention having seen their barn, but no one did. "Oh, your poor face, Jack," Martha Linebeck said, clucking over him like a mother hen.

"Wish I'd been there," Grant said. "I'd've given that guy what-for."

"You'da had to take a number behind Ennis, then."

"Just so's you know, the church council will _not_ be holding our Wednesday night meetings at that man's restaurant any longer."

Jack smiled. "Well, that's nice 'o you, Grant, but I'd hate to think that the council was bein' subjected to the Wednesday Night Special over at Marleybone's on my account."

Their laughter was interrupted when Pastor Greenfield approached, his usual air of serenity and calm coming along with him. "Excuse me, folks. Jack, may I have a word with you?"

Jack nodded to Grant and Martha and let the pastor pull him aside. "I heard about the unpleasantness at the fair," Greenfield said, his eyes flicking to Jack's bruised cheek. "It's a shame you were subjected to such an attack."

Jack sighed. "It ain't a perfect world, Mike. It's bound to happen from time to time."

"You know that Mr. Forrester has been going to St. John's Methodist, I assume."

"S'what I heard."

"I've spoken to my counterpart there and expressed our concerns that Mr. Forrester may be trying to…well, stir up trouble."

Jack thought again of the barn, but decided not to mention it until the sheriff had seen it. "If he aims to stir up trouble then he's stupider'n he looks. If'n he hopes to live here and have a business, that ain't the way to go 'bout it."

"I agree. But…I hate to say it, Jack, but surely you know that there _are_ people in this town who disapprove of you, even hate you. Possibly people in this very congregation."

"I know. It ain't their disapproval what concerns me, I cain't control that. What concerns me is someone inspirin' them to do more'n just disapprove quietly from afar."

Pastor Greenfield nodded. "We'll just have to be extra vigilant, won't we? Pastor Delaford over at St. John's agrees with me on this." He smiled, and put a hand on Jack's shoulder. "Just remember that you and Ennis still have many friends here. A few outspoken malcontents doesn't change that."

Jack had to look away so the pastor wouldn't see him tearing up. "Thanks, Mike. That's a comfort."

* * *

Ennis stood off to the side while the sheriff looked at the ground along the barn's defaced wall. He'd already taken photos of the damage, and now he was making a few notes as he duck-walked along. "Got some ladder impressions here," he said. "You're right. Couldn'tve been a one-man job."

"It's gotta be that asshole Forrester."

"I agree, but we can't prove it. I know you must be mad that the man took a potshot at Jack, but unfortunately that doesn't make him a vandal." He straightened up and rejoined Ennis, shaking his head as he looked up at the barn. "I can't believe this happened here," he said. "You boys have never had any trouble like this."

"Like as not it'll blow over."

"Let's hope so."

"C'n we paint over it, then?"

"Oh, sure. I've got what I need. I'd say the sooner, the better."

"Ennis!" Jack shouted from the house. "Time to get movin', cowboy!"

"Y'okay!" Ennis yelled back.

"Got somewhere to be?" Walter asked.

"Takin' my daughter to the airport. She's flyin' back to Wyoming."

"Arlene Trimble told me that your girl's moving in here to go to school up in Middlebury."

Ennis sighed. "My, don't tongues wag 'round here."

"Was I correctly informed?" the sheriff asked, grinning.

"I'm glad t'say that you were. I cain't wait to have her here all the time."

"That's good news, Ennis. Look, I'm going to ask this Forrester guy a few questions anyway. Off the record, just two fellas talking. Maybe I can get one of the deputies to act like he's of a like mind, see if we can get him to admit what he did to your barn here."

"You do what you have to, Walter. I jus' want it clean again."

* * *

To Liz's relief, Jack, Ennis and Junior all wanted her to come along to the airport with them. She liked Junior, and was sorry to see her leave just as they were getting to know each other. The size of the outing did mean that they had to take Jack's Mercedes. "Now, y'sure you wanna take it, rodeo?" Ennis teased him. "'Cause me 'n Liz could just hunker down in the bed 'o one of the pickups if'n you don't wanna get that pretty paintjob dusty, now."

"Oh, that's real funny, cowboy," Jack grumbled as they piled into the car. "You're jus' too fuckin' hilarious for words. You oughta take that act on the road."

Liz relaxed into the back seat of the car, listening to Ennis and Jack jab at each other as they pulled onto the interstate, heading north to Burlington. Junior leaned towards her. "Sweet, aren't they?" she whispered, giggling.

Liz nodded. "And they say romance is dead."

Ennis wanted to wait with Junior until her flight was called, but she wouldn't hear of it. "Daddy, I don't want you away from the ranch for any longer than's absolutely necessary, not after what happened last night."

"Don't you worry your pretty head about it," Ennis said, chucking her chin.

Junior fixed him with a stern stare. "And don't patronize me! That's gonna be my ranch too, remember? I'll worry about it if I've a mind to, y'hear?"

Ennis sighed. "She ain't even livin' here yet, and already she's bossin' me around, rodeo."

"I'm impressed. I've taught her well," Jack said, nodding sagely.

Junior turned to Liz and hugged her. "It sure was nice to meet you, Liz," she said.

"The pleasure was all mine."

"I hope I'll see you again."

"I'm sure you will." Liz pulled back. "This project won't be a short one. I'm sure I'll be paying more visits while I write."

Junior turned to Jack, whose sad puppy-dog expression was so over the top that it had to be genuine. Junior pooched out her lower lip and sighed. "Bye, Jack," she said. She threw her arms around his neck and squeezed him tightly.

"You take care, sweetheart," he said, hugging her back. "We'll be countin' the days till you come back for good, y'hear?"

She pulled back and kissed his cheek. "Look after my dad, okay?" Liz heard her whisper.

Jack nodded and tweaked her nose. "I surely will."

Ennis shuffled and stared at the floor as Junior made it around to him. "Visits always over too soon," he muttered.

"I know, Daddy. But next time it's for keeps."

Ennis nodded, then reached out quickly and embraced her. Junior's breath hitched a bit as she wrapped her arms around his waist. "You give your sister a big hug for me," Ennis said. "And tell your mamma that I'll be callin' so's we c'n talk about how 'n when to move your things 'n such."

Junior nodded against his chest. "I will." She drew back and smiled up at him. "I can't wait to live here."

"Me neither, honey," Ennis said. He kissed her forehead.

She stepped back. "Okay, no more goodbyes, now. Y'all get along back to the ranch." She made shooing motions with her hands, smiling even while a tear leaked from one of her eyes.

Jack and Ennis reluctantly turned, pausing to wave to her one last time. Liz followed along as they walked back down the concourse, both of them shoving their hands in their pockets and ducking their heads down. By now she knew the body language, and said nothing.

It was a quiet ride home. Liz let her head rest against the doorframe and watched the green fields go by, idly counting the cows that were looking at them as they passed. The afternoon sun was sinking lower in the sky, dipping the east side of the mountains into purple shadows.

Ennis stared out the passenger-side window, his elbow propped on the window frame, his chin in his hand. Jack drove on in silence, one hand on the wheel. No one turned on the radio or spoke for miles.

Liz heard a brief sniff and a hitch of breath. Ennis made a quick motion with his fingers, swiping at his cheek, keeping his gaze fixed out the window. She watched the back of his head, the dark-blonde curls covering a mind she'd only barely begun to know. She wondered if she'd ever know the depth of his pain at being separated from his children. What must it be like? she wondered. To have to choose between being near the daughters you adore, or being with the love of your life? How had he ever made the choice that he had? She could easily imagine him going the other direction. Choosing to stay in Riverton, telling Jack to go back to Childress after he'd made his impulsive sixteen-hour journey upon learning of Ennis's divorce. Would he be there still? Would Jack still be in Childress, married to Lureen? Would they still be trying to squeeze a lifetime into a few short fishing trips a year? It had been barely a week since she'd met them, and already Liz could not imagine one without the other. She couldn't possibly picture them separated, living lives that didn't include each other. She couldn't even fathom how they'd done it for the twelve years they had.

Ennis sniffed again and exhaled a shaky breath, the only expression of his sadness he'd allow himself. Without taking his eyes off the road, Jack raised his arm and rubbed a reassuring hand across Ennis's shoulders before settling it on the back of his neck. Liz watched Jack's thumb gently stroke Ennis's skin, and she saw Ennis relax a little. He looked over at Jack, the hesitant beginnings of a sad smile on his lips. Jack met his eyes, only a quick glance away from the road ahead, then lowered his hand from Ennis's neck. Ennis's arm shifted slightly towards the middle. Liz smiled and closed her eyes, not needing to look to know that their clasped hands were resting between them on the front seat.

* * *

By the time they got back to the ranch, it was coming on evening. Ennis spoke for the first time since they'd left the airport. "Goddamn, that fuckin' barn is the las' thing I wanna see right now."

"Shut your eyes, then," Jack said. "I mean to look at nothin' but the yellow line."

They crested the last hill. There it was, the word FAGGOTS, big as life. Except…that wasn't all there was. Jack leaned forward, his brow creasing. "What the hell…"

Liz craned her neck to see past Ennis's head, which was blocking her view. They pulled into the gravel drive and Jack stopped the car. His mouth was hanging open. "You gotta be kiddin' me," Ennis muttered.

Liz stared. She hoped to hell that what she was seeing wasn't some kind of sleepy mirage.

There were about twenty cars and trucks parked along the drive and on the edges of the fields. "I'll be goddamned," Jack said, as they stared in disbelief at the crowd of people who were lined up alongside the barn, all of them holding brushes and buckets, busily painting the barn red again.

Liz climbed out of the car in a daze. She saw Fred and Arlene Trimble, and the mayor, and the man in the overalls from the fair. She saw Paul and Roger, and a few familiar faces she didn't yet have names for. There were some young kids, all of them generously dappled with bright red barn paint.

Jack and Ennis came up beside her and stood staring at this impromptu painting party. "I cain't believe it," Jack said, his voice breathy with amazement.

Someone saw them and raised a cry of greeting, and within a few seconds all the paint brushes and buckets were set down and everybody was coming down the slope towards them. Jack and Ennis drifted forward, comprehension dawning on their faces. Fred Trimble reached them first. Jack shook his hand with gusto, gaping past him to the partially repainted barn. "Fred…Arlene…what is all this?"

"What does it look like? We're painting this barn." Fred clapped a hand to Jack's shoulder. "Couldn't let the sun go down on it the way it was," he said, smiling.

Jack exhaled and hugged Fred, slapping his back. "Goddamn, was this your idea?"

"I don't know whose idea it was," Fred said. "It just…seemed like something that needed doing." Liz saw people nodding.

Ennis shook his head, looking out across the smiling faces, many of them paint-splattered. "Y'all…Christ," he stammered. "I don't know what to say."

Paul laughed. "Well, you _could_ say 'gimme a paintbrush,'" he said, prompting a round of whoops and cheers.

"Well, hell! Give us all a paintbrush!" Jack cried.

The crowd, three bodies stronger, surged back up the hill and set to the task at hand with determination. What could be reached from the ground was finished within half an hour, and then ladders were being untied from pickup racks, the roofs of cars, and hauled out from the ranch's storehouse.

Liz was getting ready to dive in again when she was seized by the hand and yanked away. "Come on," Marianne said, dragging her back to the house. "You're going to help me get together some food for all these folks." Liz looked back over her shoulder at the barn. She saw Ennis on a ladder, laughing as Roger kept missing him with the paintbrush he was trying to toss up to him. She saw Jack with Jimmy Trimble sitting on his shoulders, the boy reaching up to paint over the crossbar of the second letter 'G.'

The painting party lasted until after sunset. As the sunlight died, cars were moved and arranged facing the barn, their headlights illuminating the work. Someone produced a radio, and soon Liz could hear the painters singing along to "Mama Told Me Not to Come" with more enthusiasm than synchronization.

When the barn was finished, a cheer went up from the team. Marianne somehow threw together a large pot of sloppy joes and some coleslaw, and within minutes the back porch was crowded with people, most of whom were liberally slathered with red barn paint. Ennis's hair was a color previously unknown to nature, and Jack had a swatch of red right across his forehead. Another cheer went up as Fred Trimble produced a keg of beer. The mayor got the first cup, and stood on a table to make a toast. "To Stan Forrester," he said, eliciting a round of booing and hissing. "May he vent his spleen on my house next, because I sure as hell don't want to paint it by myself!" More cheers.

Liz watched Jack and Ennis from a deck chair in the corner. They were transformed. They moved easily among their friends and neighbors, laughing and talking. Even Ennis seemed animated. She wondered if this was part of Stan Forrester's master plan. His aim would seem to have been to demoralize the queer ranchers and make them feel ostracized and demeaned. Yet here they were, surrounded by goodwill, their friends rallying around them, while his poison on their barn had lasted less than twenty-four hours. She had no doubt that it wasn't the last time Jack and Ennis would face such attacks, but all of this bolstered her confidence in their ability to weather them.

She remembered something Jack had told her, early in their acquaintance. The only way bad folks win, he'd said, is for good folks to do nothing. Turned out that if the good folks did something, not only did they win, they didn't even have to try very hard to do it.


	11. A Conversational Interlude

**A/N:** _Okay, this isn't a new chapter, per se. It's a little bit of nothing much that I just had fun with this evening. Call it an interlude/thinly veiled writing exercise/even more thinly veiled excuse for Jack and Ennis to say a bunch of stuff. There is a tiny bit of plot advancement. Hope you enjoy it._

_

* * *

_

A woman is having coffee. She sits on a sunlit porch, writing on a legal pad, unaware that she's being watched. Fifty yards away, two men lurk in the shadows of a dense copse of trees by a river, unseen and silently debating a question preoccupying both of them.

One of them speaks. "I think we ought to do it today." Silence. "Y'think we oughta do it today?"

"Fuck if I know." Grudging acknowledgment of the topic.

"Well…are you ready?"

"I ain't _never_ gonna be ready for this conversation."

"When d'_you_ think we oughta do it?"

"This was your bright fuckin' idea. Why's it suddenly on me?"

"I'm jus' tryin' t'be considerate, asshole."

"Watcher mouth, shithead."

"Who you callin' shithead, fuckwad?"

"Oh, you wanna throw down now, hoss?"

Pause. Grumble. "I c'd take you any day 'o the week."

"Then the weeks where you live must have a No-Fuckin'-Way-Day."

"Don't change the goddamned subject."

"Why not? I don't much like it." Pause. "Let's forget the whole thing."

"Either we bring it up, or she does. It ain't gonna go away jus' 'cause you're chickenshit."

"Chickenshit who defended your sorry ass from the big bad holy roller, don't forget."

"Okay, that's it. I'm kickin' your ass all the way to Burlington." Pause. "After lunch."

"Keep it up 'n we ain't gonna have no sex life to argue about discussin'."

Sigh. "Arguin' with you's just another kind 'o foreplay, anyway."

"Yeah, 'n you're jus' about as good at it."

"This from the king 'o the five-second blowjob."

"My jaw gets to hurtin'."

"Oh yeah? Pain you some, does it? Tell that to my _ass_ after that first time!"

"Simmer down, someone'll hear you goin' on." Pause. "You said it weren't that bad."

"Yeah, well, didn't wanna guilt you none."

"Don't fuckin' lie to me." Pause. Quietly. "I hate it when you lie to me."

"Well, I hate bein' lied to."

"What the hell's that mean?"

"When were you gonna tell me that Alma ain't gonna let Junior move out here?" Silence. "You weren't, were ya?"

"Ain't your affair."

"Ain't my _affair?_ How d'ya figure that?"

"Between me'n Alma."

"I had to hear it from _Junior_, asshole. Y'know how that makes me feel? Like a fuckin' hired hand…s'cuse me, hired _ass._"

"You gotta talk that way?"

"What way's that?"

"Like you think I'm jus' here for the sex!"

Long pause. Quietly. "It's s'posed t'be _our_ family now, 'member? I oughta know 'bout what's goin' on with it."

"It'll happen."

"But Alma…"

"Alma's had Junior her whole fuckin' life!"

"Okay, easy there…"

"She says I'm some kinda bad influence, or somethin'."

"Are you shittin' me? Bad influence? Yeah, you just influenced her into wantin' to go to school and run a business and fuckin' _make_ somethin' of her life besides a shitty line house in the ass-end of Wyoming married to some grunt who c'n barely read and who'd probably beat the shit outta her."

Pause. "Nice speech. I feel all inspired."

"Shut up." Pause. "I guess you're a bad influence 'cause 'o me."

"I guess. It ain't decent, you know."

"Yeah, I know, we're goin' to Hell and takin' all our abominations with us." Long pause. "What're you gonna do 'bout Junior?"

"Nothin'."

"What?"

"_I_ ain't gonna do nothin'. _We_ are gonna get her out here if'n we have to get in the truck and drive to Riverton ourselves. She's over eighteen, ain't nothin' Alma c'n do 'bout it."

"Yeah. Damn straight."

"That s'posed to be a joke?"

"Hardy har har."

Pause. "I shouldn'a married her."

"How long you gonna torture yourself?"

"Wasn't right. Fuck, I was thinkin' 'bout somebody else when I was speakin' my goddamned sacred vows!"

"Uh…I hope you mean me."

"No, I mean the waitress at the diner where I had breakfast. 'O course I mean you!"

"Jus' checkin'."

"God almighty. When you gonna quit fuckin' askin' me stuff like that? How many times I gotta say it?"

"You sayin' it's rarer'n hen's teeth."

"Thought you was smart enough t'get the idea without me yammerin' on at you like some lovesick country singer on a two-day bender."

"Well, excuse me all to hell!"

"Don't be like that. Jesus Christ."

Long silence. Uncomfortable glances. "You ever sorry?"

"Sorry for what?"

"Y'know. All of it."

Sigh. "I'm sorry 'bout Alma. I'm sorry I hurt her 'n the girls. I'm sorry she had to divorce me to get me t'make a goddamned decision." Pause. Quietly. "I'm sure fuckin' sorry the world's so fulla hate for folks jus' wanna live peaceful, ain't hurtin' nobody."

"Yeah."

"That ain't what you was askin', though, was it?"

"Not really."

"Lookit me." Pause. "I ain't sorry I met you. Never. Y'hear me? I'm jus' sorry I let you drive away after that summer, I'm sorry for them twelve years we los'. I think on it sometimes, y'know? I look at what we got now and how goddamned good it is, and I think how we coulda had it for so much longer 'cept I was fuckin' scared shitless and I didn't know how not t'be."

Pause. "Thanks. Nice t'hear that."

A rueful head-shake. "You're a fuckin' idiot, y'know that?"

"Gee, you had me goin' there for awhile with all them nice things you was sayin'…"

"You don't got the first damned clue, do you?"

Pause. "No, I guess I don't."

"Seven goddamned years and you ain't got the picture yet? You know me better'n anyone. You expect me t'be able t'_tell_ you about it? I ain't got the words. I never heard 'em and I never learnt 'em. I don't know how t'go about sittin' you down and sayin' 'Here's how I feel.' All I know how t'do is sleep with you even though I was brought up to think it was disgusting, 'n then quit job after job so's I could go away with you for a week, lie to a woman bore me two kids 'n never done me no wrong so's I could keep seein' you, and kiss you in broad daylight 'cause I just couldn't fuckin' stand not to. Then all I could think t'do was leave everthin' I ever knew, move thousands 'o miles away from my kids, take a strange man's money wasn't my own, 'n live out in the open where the men with the tire irons might find me and kill me." Pause. Deep breath. "And I done all that for you. So you'll jus' have t'let it go when it pisses me off that even knowin' all that you still gotta ask if I'm sorry, and you still wanna hear me say some kinda magic words that somehow mean more'n everthin' I ever done."

Pause. Sniff. "Jesus. Where'd that come from?"

"I guess from it drivin' me up the goddamned wall that you still don't seem t'have any idea of jus' how much I fuckin' love you."

A choked sound. A hesitation. "I'm sorry."

"What you got t'be sorry for?" Gently, reassuring. "I'm the one with the hamstrung tongue, cain't say the things I'd like to."

"For a man with a hamstrung tongue you sure been talkin' a lot."

Chuckles. "I guess you bring it outta me."

A blown nose, a sigh. "C'mere."

"Why?"

"'Cause I'd like kiss you till you're bright red with stubble-burn, if that's all right with you."

"Oh…I s'pose."

Pause.

Long pause.

"Well…if you insist we have this godawful conversation with Lizzie about our private affairs, I guess we oughta be gettin' it over with."

"Ain't no rush."

"'O course not, now that you're randier'n a bull."

"It ain't my fault you're too much man for me."

"Your shirt's untucked there. Better smarten up, else Lizzie'll think we been up t'no good."

"We ain't been…yet."

Heavy sigh. "C'mon, 'afore I lose my nerve."

"Oh…all _right._" A few steps. Pause. "Ennis?"

"What, Jack?"

"I hope you have an idea of how much I fuckin' love _you._"

Sigh. "Yeah, I do, 'cause I'm luckier 'n you. I got a man knows how to tell me so."

"You ain't luckier 'n me. I'm just lucky for different reasons." Walking. "Hmm. Mayhap we oughta give Lizzie a little demonstration…"

"Shut up."

"I bet she'd be interested…"

"I ain't listenin' t'this."

"Maybe you could manage more'n five seconds with an audience."

"That's it. _Your_ ass is gettin' kicked to Burlington." Pause. "But yeah, after lunch."


	12. Chapter 11

Liz was just about to get up and head inside for more coffee when Jack and Ennis came walking up the yard from the river. She couldn't hear them, but she could tell from their faces that they were sniping at each other. They stopped as they climbed the stairs to the porch. "Mornin', swee'pea," Jack said.

She smiled. Liz loved that nickname more every time she heard him say it. "Hi, guys."

"What're you, uh...what're you doin'?" Jack pulled up a chair and sat facing her. Ennis lurked near his shoulder, shifting from foot to foot and appearing very interested in everything and anything else.

She glanced from one face to the other. "What's going on?"

"What d'you mean?"

"Something's going on." An awful thought came to her all at once. "Oh...I've stayed too long, haven't I? You want to know when I'm leaving...oh God, I should've..."

Jack cut her off, holding up a hand. "No, no! No, that ain't it. I told you, we love havin' you. That ain't it at all."

Liz relaxed, relieved. "Oh. Okay. Well...what is it, then?"

Jack let his head drop down for a moment, then met her eyes. "Here's the thing, Lizzie. We know that you've got a lot of...well, _personal_ kinda questions you'd like to ask, but don't rightly know how. We decided we'd spare you the trouble and bring it up first."

Liz sat up straighter. "Really?"

"We agreed to this book thing, and we ain't backin' out now." Without looking, he reached back, grabbed Ennis's arm and yanked him down into a chair. "_Right,_ Ennis?"

Ennis gave a curt nod, coughing and clearing his throat. "S'pose so," he said, crossing his arms over his chest.

"So what you wanna know?"

Liz wasn't prepared for this, but she wasn't going to waste the opportunity, which might never come again. "I appreciate this, guys," she said. "It's awkward for me, too. This isn't like an ordinary project anymore." She smiled. "You're friends now, and friends don't pry into each other's private lives, right?"

"We c'n just pretend we ain't friends for a bit, if'n it'll make it easier."

She laughed. "I'm not that good at pretending." She took a deep breath. "Well," she said, pulling threads of different topics into her mind. "I guess what I'm most interested in is how it's different than a straight relationship. I mean, you hear all the time about married couples where the husband always wants it and the wife never wants to, and supposedly women just tolerate it while men are randy bastards."

Jack sniffed. "I guess that's true for some folks."

"It must be different when both of you are men, right?"

"A bit," Jack said, smirking.

"I read this article that said the average couple married for more than five years has sex three times a week."

"That so? Huh."

Liz looked at their inscrutable faces. They weren't going to make this easy. "So...how does that compare to your experience?"

"Umm...not too well."

"No?"

"For us it's more like...I dunno. What, four, five times a day?" Liz's mouth dropped open in spite of herself. "Zat sound 'bout right, Ennis?" Jack said, glancing back.

Ennis harrumphed and gave a little shrug. "I s'pose. Give 'r take a few."

The ability to speak had left her. Liz looked at their expectant faces, waiting for a response...then she caught it. That little twinkle in Jack's eyes and that curl of his lip, Ennis's gaze fixed decidedly elsewhere but a quirk of amusement lurking at the corner of his mouth. She exhaled and shook her head. "If you guys are just gonna fuck with me, we can forget it," she said, smiling in spite of herself.

Jack laughed. "I cain't believe you fell for that. We ain't eighteen no more, you know."

Ennis fetched a sigh, then raised his hands in supplication. "Y'know what? I cain't do this. I'm just gonna 'scuse myself and go castrate a calf or somethin'. Y'all can talk about whatever you please and I'll never know nothin', which is jus' fine by me." He stood up.

Jack looked up at him. "I thought you wanted t'listen 'n make sure it wasn't too personal or anythin'."

"I trust your judgment, rodeo. Don't let it go t'your head, now." He walked past Jack's chair toward the stairs, but halfway there he stopped, squared his shoulders and turned back. After a moment's hesitation, he walked decisively to Jack's side, leaned over and kissed him firmly on the mouth, one hand going to the back of his head. Liz could only stare. Ennis straightened up again and fixed her with a significant look, eyebrows raised: _there, happy now?_ He gave a little nod, then turned and went down to the yard, heading for the stables.

Jack watched him go, a bemused expression on his face. "Well, now," he said. "There's somethin' y'don't see ever day." He turned back to Liz. "Where were we, then?"

"I was asking about how it was different."

"See, right away, you're comin' at it all wrong."

"I am?"

"You got this whole idea that it's some kinda strange new thing like landin' on the moon or the discovery of America. Truth is, Lizzie...the act itself? It ain't no different, not really. I mean, the bits'r different, sure, but ain't that just window-dressin'? It is what it is, you know?"

Liz pondered this for a moment. "I guess sex is just about connecting with somebody, regardless of whether it's a woman or a man."

"Well...sometimes it's about how much whiskey you've had," Jack said, with a rueful smile. "I mean, folks do it for lots 'o reasons. To have kids, and 'cause it's what you do when you're hitched, and 'cause you're horny, and 'cause t'other person wants to, and sometimes just 'cause it's cold 'n you're both there." He sighed. "But if you're lucky, you're havin' it 'cause you feel somethin' for somebody, and there ain't no better way t'let 'em know."

Liz thought back to her first few months with Charlie. How she couldn't get close enough to him, how she'd wanted to crawl inside him and turn them into one person, and she understood. "Is it like that for you?" she asked.

Jack smiled. "Look, honey. I ain't gonna sit here and describe chapter 'n verse 'o what me 'n Ennis do together, 'cause that's private and it ain't no one else's business. But I c'n say in a general kinda way that yeah, it's like that for me."

"Is it...well, is it better than with Lureen?"

He thought for a moment. "It's _real,_ and I cain't say that 'bout Lureen. I mean, bein' with her felt good 'n all. You gotta know that us fellas, we ain't too picky." Liz laughed. "But it was just a thing we did, y'know? I never felt like it meant much. It was a better alternative to wringin' it out myself." He glanced up at her, flushing. "Sorry."

"It's okay," Liz said, grinning. "I am aware of the concept."

"'Course you are. Anyway...I ain't gonna lie. When I was with Lureen, half the time...okay, mos' 'o the time...I'd be thinkin' 'bout Ennis. It was a powerful relief to be able t'put away all those thoughts, 'cause I had him in the flesh...so to speak." He sat back, resting one ankle on the opposite knee. "I c'n barely remember what it felt like t'be with a woman. Times I forget that lots 'o folks think my bein' with him's unnatural and perverted, 'cause it sure feels natural t'me. What you was saying 'afore, 'bout men wantin' it more 'n women?" Liz nodded. "Well, that ain't no problem for us. No one gets no headaches in our house, take my meanin'? Ennis ain't never turned me away, nor I him. Sometimes makes me wonder what the Lord was thinkin' when he made men 'n women so different in what they like, if'n he wanted 'em to be doin' it so's they could have kids'n all." He shrugged. "I mean, think on it a minute. All the parts is familiar, 'cause they're the same ones I got. He ain't never asked me what I was thinkin' right afterwards. It ain't no big drama if'n we both fall right asleep. Never got t'worry 'bout no unexpected babies. Don't gotta mess with no rubbers or God knows what else. It's just...I dunno. It's like we're 'o the same mind about it. Lureen's mind was always a total fuckin' mystery t'me, and so was what she wanted 'n liked in bed. But with Ennis, there ain't no mystery."

Liz nodded. "I can see the advantages."

"Yeah, well, keep it t'yourself. If all them straight fellas found out about it, there'd be queer ranchers 'round every hillside."

They laughed, partly out of amusement and partly out of relief to be getting this discussion out of the way. "My lips are sealed," Liz said.

"Oh, that ain't the only thing. You know what the biggest advantage is 'o livin' with a man?" Liz shook her head, leaning forward in anticipation of an astonishing revelation. "Socks. You c'n share socks. Never run out."

Liz stared for a moment, then busted out laughing. "Socks, huh? Let me make a note of that."

"Not just socks, neither. Me 'n Ennis are 'bout the same size. I c'n wear his jeans, though his shirts get a bit tight 'round the chest. And if I'm outta clean drawers, I c'n just steal a pair 'o his."

"You wear his _underwear_?" Liz said, laughing.

"Sure. Why not? It's clean. Besides," he said, smirking, "I been a whole helluva lot closer to his ass than that."

* * *

She found Ennis in the shed, cleaning rifles. "Can I come in?"

"Sure. Jus' mind you don't touch nothin'."

Liz wasn't tempted. The shed was where they kept all the ranch's weapons. Shotguns, rifles, a few handguns, and boxes upon boxes of ammunition. She perched on a stool and watched for a moment as Ennis disassembled the rifle. "Can I ask you something?"

"S'long as it ain't about my bedroom activities."

She chuckled. "No, I think we've put that topic to bed. Pardon the pun."

"Then shoot." He chuckled, nodding at the rifle. "Pardon _my_ pun."

"I know that Jack wanted something more permanent with you for years, but you resisted."

"That's so."

"What made that last time different? What made you finally agree?"

Ennis went about his work for a few moments, silent. Liz knew him well enough by now to judge that he wasn't resisting the question, but merely weighing his response. "I watched him drive away from me once," he finally said, "and it pulled at my guts so much I was sick for days. Years, maybe. That las' time, when he drove up from Childress just 'cause I'd gotten a divorce..." He sighed. "I jus' couldn't watch him drive away again. It was real close, though. Too close. He was back in the truck and puttin' it in gear 'afore I could unglue my jaw."

"What'd you say?"

He shrugged. "Don't rightly recall. Was so twisted up, I'd no idea what I was doin'. I had the girls there, and I was scared 'o someone seein' him with me...I dunno. I think I jus' asked him t'stick around until I took the girls home 'n we could talk." He was reassembling the rifle now. "Dunno where I screwed up the nerve, and that's the truth. I never could see how t'make it work, even though I fuckin' hated it ever time I watched him leave." He shrugged. "I guess when I come back 'n I saw what he was hopin'…it jus' hit me all at once."

"What did?"

Ennis met her eyes. For a moment, he said nothing. "He was willin' t'leave his family 'n his home, 'n risk them tire irons, 'n face whatever might happen, all 'cause he wanted t'be with me." He lowered his eyes and his voice. "He was willin' t'fight for us, like I never was. I looked at him that day 'n he shamed me. Felt myself a coward next t'him." He shook his head. "I couldn't send him back t'Childress after that. I didn't care where we had t'go or what we had t'do, I couldn't stand it. I saw my chance t'be happy. Maybe my las' chance. God help me, I took it." He cleared his throat and stood up, shuffling in embarrassment for having exposed his feelings to her so nakedly. He replaced the rifle on the rack. "Damn, city gal. How it is you get me talkin' so I'll never know."

Liz smiled. "Maybe you _wanted_ to tell somebody these things. Maybe you just needed an excuse."

Ennis returned to the bench with two more rifles. "Mayhap so. Now, you sit up here with me, you're gonna learn to clean these rifles. Time y'started earnin' your keep."

* * *

"Christ, Lizzie, you smell like a firing range."

"Ennis had me cleaning rifles." Lizzie cast a weary glance down at her shirt, which was spotted with gun oil. How Ennis did it without getting the foul stuff all over himself was a mystery.

Jack laughed. "Prob'ly jus' wanted t'keep you from askin' no more questions 'bout his sex life."

She sighed. "I wasn't going to."

"He'll be relieved to know it."

They were on horseback, standing by the gates of the north corral, which was half-full of calves. Ennis and Stubbs, the ranch foreman, were riding through the larger herd, culling the calves and herding them into the corral. Liz watched Jack's eyes track Ennis as he rode back and forth, whistling sharply. "Man looks fine on horseback," she commented.

Jack glanced at her. "You ain't gonna get no quarrel from me."

"What's the story with these calves, then?"

He sighed. "Well, some of 'em we'll keep. Some of 'em will be sold to dairy farmers. Ennis'll pick out the best ones for me t'look at."

"Look at for what?"

"For breedin' stock. All these calves was sired by Joey, he's the bull we keep here for ourselves. Joey's calves c'n fetch a high price as breeders. We got ten or so orders in for suitable bulls if any come up. Might find one or two worth showin' this year, too."

"Paul told me you're good at husbandry."

"I get by."

"He said you have a 'spooky gift' for it."

Jack fidgeted and blushed, but Liz could see that the praise pleased him. "Doc's jus' flatterin' me. Gets a lot 'o business from us, he does." Jack trotted a few yards away, peering over the fence at the calves. Liz watched him, her earlier comment about men on horseback recurring. She looked back out towards the herd. Ennis stuck up from the mass of bovine flesh as a denim-colored finger, his eyes shaded by the brim of his hat.

She was looking right at him when it happened. Ennis's horse was just trotting along, calm and under control, when all at once it _screamed._ Liz had never heard a horse make that sound. She saw Jack's head whip around out of the corner of her eyes. The horse immediately began to buck and thrash. Ennis tried to ride it out but he couldn't hang on. With one mighty heave of the horse's powerful hindquarters, Ennis was launched from its back as if from a catapult. He flew through the air and landed half on the top rail of the corral fence, then flopped onto the ground and lay still.

Liz heard Jack yell his name and saw him spur his horse into a gallop. Stubbs was already off his horse and running to Ennis's side. Liz felt like she'd been doused in cold water, but somehow she managed the presence of mind to ride to where Ennis lay on his stomach, horribly still.

Jack was dismounting before his horse had stopped moving. He skidded to his knees next to Ennis, yanking Stubbs back before he could do anything. "Don't touch him," Jack said, his voice surprisingly even. "Mighta hurt his back or his neck, don't move him. Get down 'n call Pete." Stubbs didn't move. Jack shoved him, hard. "Go, now!"

Stubbs got to his feet, leapt back onto his horse and took off towards the house. Liz knelt on Ennis's other side, feeling helpless. Jack bent over his head. "Ennis?" he said. "C'n y'hear me, cowboy?" His voice was gentle, but Liz could see his hands shaking and beads of sweat popping out on his brow.

Ennis grunted. "Fuck," he said. Liz saw his legs move. That was a good sign. "Jack?"

"You got thrown, hoss. Don't move, now. Doc's on the way. You jus' lie still."

"Quit fussin', I'm fine." Ennis stirred and rolled onto his side. Jack reached out and steadied his shoulder.

"C'n you feel everythin'? Anythin' hurt?"

"Fuckin' _everthin'_ hurts, y'dumb bastard." Liz saw Jack relaxing bit by bit as it became clear that Ennis had full control of all his limbs. He raised a hand to his head. "Sonofabitch."

"Take it easy, now." Jack helped Ennis roll onto his back. He groaned and let his head fall back. "Damn, you gave me 'n Lizzie quite a start." Jack smiled. "I ain't never seen you fly like that, bud. Didn't know you were so aerodynamic."

Ennis chuckled. "Musta looked ridiculous." He looked up at Jack, then raised his hand and briefly touched the back of a finger to his cheek. "Didn't mean t'startle you none, friend." He started to lower his hand again but Jack grasped it.

"Jus' glad you're ok." He squeezed Ennis's hand briefly, then released it. "But that's for Pete to say. C'n you get up?"

Ennis nodded, grunting as he struggled to sit up. Jack put one arm around his shoulders and helped him. "Ain't the firs' time I been thrown, y'know," Ennis grumbled, lurching to his feet and slinging one arm across Jack's shoulders. "Goddamn," he said. "I am gonna feel _that_ in the mornin'."

* * *

Pete turned out to be Dr. Peter Llewellyn, the local general practitioner, who lived only a mile up the road. By the time Jack and Ennis made it back to the house, Ennis leaning on Jack and Liz tagging along behind like a puppy, the doctor was already there, summoned by Stubbs's phone call.

"Damn, Ennis," Dr. Llewellyn said. "What'd you do to that horse, anyway, insult her mother?" He led Ennis to a chair and sat him down, then started examining him.

"I'm fine, Doc," Ennis growled.

"Shut up and let the man work," Jack said, stepping back.

"You ain't my mother, rodeo."

"Well, I'm the next best thing. You be still or I'll come over there'n hold you down, how's that?"

The doctor chuckled. "I dunno, Jack. He might like that." Jack laughed as Ennis turned fuchsia.

Liz followed Jack into the kitchen. Once they were out of sight, he let out a huge breath and shook himself all over like a wet dog. "You all right?" Liz said, putting a hand on his arm.

"Yeah. Jus' stirred up my guts a bit t'see him fall like that. Y'know what I mean."

"Sure. What do you think happened? Why'd the horse throw him?"

"Beats me. I'll have to go have a look at her. If I had t'guess, I'd say maybe a snake bit her. It was so sudden."

"Will Ennis be okay?"

"Sure. He's been thrown a dozen times and so've I. He'll be sore a coupla days and then right as rain." Jack shook his head. "You just never know 'round here. We both broken arms 'n legs, but it'd be real easy to break a back or a neck. Ranchin' ain't the safest life, and that's the truth."

"I heard about the time you almost got shot."

Jack snorted. "Oh yeah, that. Not the best day 'o my life." He shook his head. "I ain't never seen Ennis so mad. Honest, it kinda gave me a bad turn. I had t'stop him from beatin' that dumb kid to a bloody pulp."

"Well, he almost _killed_ you. Can you blame him for being angry? How would _you_ have felt?"

Jack thought about this for a moment, then nodded. "Yeah, you're right. Just ask me how much I'd like to send that fuckin' horse to the glue factory right about now."

Dr. Llewellyn came into the kitchen. "He seems fine, Jack. Bit rattled. He'll be sore as hell tomorrow, though."

"He landed kinda funny on his leg. It ain't sprained or nothin'?"

"I don't think so. He walked on it, and it doesn't feel swollen. You know where to find me if it gets worse." He looked at Liz. "This must be your reporter friend."

Jack laughed. "Talk sure do run 'round," he said. "Pete, this is Liz Forbes. Lizzie, this our doc, Pete Llewellyn."

"Nice to meet you, Liz," the doctor said.

"You too, Doctor."

"Please, call me Pete," he said, and smiled. It transformed his whole face. Llewellyn was shaped like a beanpole, skinny and narrow-faced with fluffy, sandy hair and gray eyes. He reminded Liz of Ichabod Crane. He wore round John Lennon glasses and the same denim-and-chambray country ensemble that seemed _de rigeur_ in the area.

"Okay, I will."

Jack excused himself to go talk to Ennis, but Pete stayed. Liz waited for the inevitable "how do you like Farmingdale?" question, and great was her surprise when it wasn't the question that came.

Pete crossed his arms. "Why are you doing this?" he asked, quietly.

Liz blinked. "Why am I doing what?"

"You ought to leave them be."

"But…what…I don't…" Liz was rendered spluttering and incoherent by this unexpected interrogation.

"You know what it took for them to move out here and set up this place? You know what they face every day, just to be able to walk down the street together?"

"Of course I do! That's why I'm…"

"They think you're their friend, but you're not, are you? You're thinking about books exposing the secret homosexual lives of rural Americans, the kind of books that win Pulitzers. You're not thinking about what's best for them. You're thinking about yourself."

"Now, wait just a minute," Liz said, anger replacing her confusion. "I _care_ about them. I want to tell their story, because I think it's one the country needs to hear. People need to know that they are just like anyone else, and they live ordinary lives. I will do everything in my power to safeguard their privacy, and their anonymity."

"It doesn't matter if you call them Zeke and Biff and say that they live in Idaho growing potatoes. The people _here_ will know who you're writing about, and a lot of those people only tolerate them because what they are isn't being shoved in their faces. Anything you write might upset that balance. It's bad enough what happened at the fair. Do you want to risk poisoning this place for them?"

"For them or for you?" Liz asked, suddenly finding her journalistic prickliness turned back on. "Do you have an agenda here, Dr. Llewellyn? Do you have an Ennis or a Jack of your own?"

He shook his head. "Of course, that's the only reason I might be interested in their welfare, because it affects me. I'm single, Ms. Forbes, and I don't bat for their team. But I've known Jack and Ennis since they moved here. They are good, decent men who've done a great deal for this community. Their private lives are none of my business, or yours, and they don't deserve to be vilified for it, whether it be by Stan Forrester or by you."

Liz's mouth was hanging open. "I'd never _vilify_ them! I _love_ them, and this place! I only want…"

"What? What do you want?" He took a step closer. Liz stood her ground with effort. "Your motives could stand some scrutiny." He lowered his voice. "I saw the way you looked at him." Liz felt gutshot. "What is it that you're hoping for?"

She was shaking now. "I resent the implication."

"It's true, isn't it?"

"No," she said, shaking her head. "My feelings for Jack are friendly, nothing more."

"I'm relieved to hear it. Only I never said that I was referring to Jack." He sighed. "Listen, I understand the allure of this place. Life seems so simple here, doesn't it? It is, at first. But the truth is that we have problems and complications just like anybody. I'm sorry if I sound hostile."

Liz dashed away the tears that surprised her eyes. "You're being a friend to them," she whispered. "I appreciate that."

"I'm glad you understand. I want you to understand my concerns."

She nodded. "I do. I've been thinking about it a lot."

"I'm relieved to hear it." He hesitated. "And…about the other matter…"

Liz shook her head, sharply. "He'll never know." How could he, when she barely knew herself? The good doctor had just dragged into the light, kicking and screaming, a little ashamed section of her brain that she'd been busily beating back into the darkness for days. It didn't matter. She hated herself for it as much as she couldn't help it. She'd have rather packed up and fled back to New York this very night than let it past the boundaries of herself and into this home where she had been welcomed and made to feel one of the family.

Pete nodded. "Good." He smiled again. Liz was glad to see it. "Look, I just came down on you pretty hard, and I…"

"Don't apologize."

He shrugged. "Okay, I won't. I'll let myself out, then. Tell Ennis to call me tomorrow if he needs something stronger than aspirin."

Liz managed a smile in return. "I will."

She watched the doctor leave by the back door. She sagged against the edge of the counter, replaying the conversation in her head, hoping she'd just imagined that part about Jack…but she hadn't.

She went to the entrance into the living room and peeked around the doorjamb, keeping to the shadows. Ennis was sitting on the floor, his legs stuck out in front of him, rubbing and flexing his right forearm while Jack knelt behind him, massaging his shoulders. Ennis's chin was on his chest, his head lolling with the motion of Jack's hands. "Does that hurt?" she heard Jack murmur.

"It s'posed to?"

"A little."

"Yeah, it fuckin' hurts." He sounded amused.

Jack chuckled. "Ain't my fault you can't stay on the back of a horse."

"And what was your best time on them bulls, huh? Four seconds? Maybe five?"

Jack sat down with his legs on either side of Ennis's hips and wrapped his arms around him from behind. Ennis leaned into him with a sigh, his head falling back to Jack's shoulder. "You ain't gonna be no good to me the next few days," Jack murmured, stroking his hands up and down Ennis's chest. "Too sore to do much more'n watch fuckin' Donahue."

Their embrace was becoming more intimate than Liz felt comfortable witnessing without their knowledge. She took a step back. "Ennis?" she called from the kitchen.

"Yeah?"

She gave them a few moments to separate, then walked into the living room. To her surprise, they hadn't moved. She had the feeling they were testing her…or possibly themselves. They were both looking at her evenly, as if daring her to react. She didn't, just sat down in a chair facing them. "Dr. Llewellyn said to call him if you need stronger painkillers in the morning."

"I think I still got some codeine from when I sprained my foot." Ennis craned his neck to look up at Jack. "Is them pills still in the cabinet?"

"No, you gave 'em to Marianne when she was havin' them headaches, remember?"

"Shit, you're right. Well, I'll be fine. Nothin's broken, anyway."

Jack grinned, then bent and kissed the juncture of his neck and shoulder. "Nothin' but a new air-speed record for ranchers."


	13. Chapter 12

_**April, 1977**_

_Ennis checked the address again, frowning. This was definitely the right road, but the only structure in sight was a rickety farmhouse with a barn. It had to be the place, but it sure wasn't what he'd been expecting._

_He parked the truck in the drive and walked up to the front door. There was a carved wooden sign on it that read "Out in the Workshop - Come On Over!" with an arrow pointing around the side of the house. He followed the arrow to the barn._

_The door was open. Ennis's mouth dropped open as he entered the workshop. It was like walking into an alien landscape. Metal sculptures in various stages of assembly and completion were everywhere. Tanks of acetylene and bins of broken glass, boxes of junk metal and large stretched canvases dotted the floor like the obstacles in a steeplechase. He could see kilns and forges and an anvil, and many varieties of saws and tools. Workbenches were scattered about, seemingly at random. "H'lo?" he called._

_"Hello!" A cheerful voice, gravelly from smoking. "I'm in the back!"_

_Ennis picked his way through the labyrinth until he found a little room built into one corner of the barn. Inside he found a surprisingly trim workshop containing a smiling man, tubby and grizzled, dressed in stained overalls and holding a soldering iron. "Afternoon," Ennis said, feeling more unsure of himself than ever. It had taken him three months to decide that this was what he wanted, and another three months to work up the courage. It was too late to turn back now, but not too late to panic._

_"Hi there," the man said, putting down the stained glass piece he was working on. "Don't believe we've met."_

_"No, sir. I'm Ennis Del Mar," he said, holding out his hand._

_The man shook it. "Myron Bergeron. Nice to meet you, Ennis." His eyes widened and he snapped his fingers. "Oh, I know you! You're one of those fellas that bought the old Horchow ranch!"_

_"Yeah, that's right."_

_"Glad somebody's found a use for it. Place wasn't doing anyone any favors. I hear you're making a real go of it out there."_

_"It's shapin' up. Listen, Mr...uh, Myron...Pastor Greenfield told me that you was good folks, and that you might be able to help me with somethin'."_

_"I'll surely try."_

_"You're...some kinda artist, is that right?"_

_"I'm all kinds of artist, Ennis," Myron said, laughing from his belly, which Ennis half-expected to see shaking like a bowl full of jelly. "I'm an equal-opportunity tinkerer. I do metalwork, glasswork, silversmithing..."_

_"Yeah, that. Silversmith, that's what I need."_

_"You need something fixed?"_

_Ennis shifted his weight, feeling the oncoming explanation he'd have to give like a freight train bearing down on him. "No, I need somethin' made. A ring."_

_"Well, I can certainly make you a ring. Is it for your wife?"_

_It took all of Ennis's determination that he would get this done not to turn tail and run right then. "I ain't got a wife. It's for...well, see..." He cleared his throat. "Thing is...it's for somebody that I...uh..." Dammit, spit it out, he scolded himself. You owe it to Jack not to be too embarrassed to say the damned words. "It's for my partner," he said, in a rush. He hated the damned word, but there wasn't a better one available to him. He hoped to hell that Myron would understand the implication, and not think he just meant a business partner…then again, how many men had rings made for their business partners?_

_Myron nodded. "Your partner?"_

_"Yeah. His name's Jack, and I wanna give him a ring, and so that's why I'm here and if'n you don't wanna make one for me then I understand and I won't trouble you no more..." Ennis's words were rushing past each other on their way out of his mouth. He'd half-turned to flee when Myron reached out and grabbed his arm._

_"Whoa there, friend," he said. "Okay, take a deep breath. I can see this isn't easy for you." Ennis nodded, concentrating on slowing his breathing down. "I guess I know why Mike sent you to me. Some of the jewelers in town might look at you a bit funny. I'm sorry I'm not better informed, I might have spared you the explanation if I'd known you and the other fella were that way."_

_"It's okay."_

_"So, what kind of ring do you want? Is this...well, something along the lines of a commitment ring?"_

_Ennis relaxed, glad that the man seemed to understand. "Yeah, that's it, exactly."_

_"Do you know what size ring he wears?"_

_"No, but..." Ennis dug in his pocket. "I stole his wedding ring. He don't wear it no more, 'o course, but he keeps it in a drawer."_

_"How long since he wore this?"_

_"He's been divorced two years."_

_"Has he gained or lost any weight since then?"_

_Ennis frowned. "I don't think so." _

_"Good, then this ought to work as a template. Now, what do you want it to look like? You said you wanted silver."_

_"Yeah. And I, uh...I dunno much from rings, but...c'n it maybe look like rope? Or somethin'? Nothin' too fancy or frilly."_

_Myron nodded. "Yes, I think I know what you mean. What kind of silver do you want?"_

_"Well, it oughta be tough, but I want the best kind y'got."_

_"Fair enough. I can have it ready for you by the end of the week, if that suits you. It'd be sooner, but I'll have to send my wife to Burlington for the silver, I don't keep much on hand these days."_

_"That suits me fine," Ennis said. So great was his relief at having succeeded in making the request that he'd probably have had the same respose if Myron had told him the ring would be ready in six months. "I'll come back on Friday, then."_

_"I'll be here at the workshop in the afternoon. Oh, and Ennis?" Ennis turned. Myron smiled at him. "I think this is a real nice gesture you're making. I'm sure he'll like it."_

_Ennis sighed. "I hope so. This ring's got t'say a lot of things that I ain't so good at."_

_

* * *

_

Ennis opened his eyes. So far, nothing hurt…but then, he hadn't moved yet. Maybe if he could just lie here, perfectly still, it would all be fine. He stared at the ceiling. It wasn't like he didn't have anything to occupy his thoughts.

He could sense the vultures circling his home, waiting to pick at his flesh and carry away everything he cared about. The acceptance they'd found here seemed to be eroding. Stan Forrester wouldn't be the last of it. He'd stir things up, because that was what his kind did. All he had to do was look at the fading bruise on Jack's cheek and the protective anger surged in him again.

He turned his head, taking care to do so slowly. Jack's face was only inches away, peacefully asleep. Ennis smiled a little, allowing himself to just wallow in it as he rarely did. _Damn, my man's a looker,_ he thought. He could see the glint of the morning sunlight on Jack's stubble. If Forrester had his way, Jack'd be in a ditch somewhere, bloodied by tire irons. The thought made Ennis's chest hitch a little. He couldn't lose Jack. He just couldn't. Since they'd been together Ennis had reshaped himself a little bit at a time, whittling at his rough edges, filling in his cracks and smoothing out his sharp points, but the man he'd become was made to fit Jack. Without him, Ennis's shape lost its outline and didn't make any sense.

He slid closer and nuzzled his face into Jack's neck, slipping his arm across his chest. Jack felt warm and sleepy, and he smelled homey like pine needles and fresh bread. Ennis shut off that switch in his mind that kept him aloof and macho and let himself go. He kissed his way down Jack's chest, his lips blindly seeking his nipple, then worked his way back up to the other side of his neck. "Mmmmmph," Jack said, stirring. Ennis felt a hand settle on his hipbone. "You're awful cozy," Jack mumbled.

"I jus' wanna touch you," Ennis whispered, running his hand down Jack's side over the curve of his hip and around to cup the firm globe of his ass. He grasped the back of Jack's thigh and pulled his leg up and around his own hip. Jack had both arms around him now; he nudged his head against Ennis's until he found his lips. Ennis slid his arm around Jack's back as they kissed, slow and leisurely…

…just like in his latest dream. A jolt zinged through Ennis's mind and he saw it again. Jack torn to pieces, his blood staining the sorrel and the daisies, watching helplessly as his head was struck from his body. He sucked in a sharp breath and pulled away, burying his face in the pillow. _Don't cry, you big baby,_ he scolded himself, but it was too late.

"Ennis?" Jack murmured. "What's wrong?" He was rubbing one hand in circles over Ennis's back. "Are you hurtin' somewhere? We don't hafta…"

"No, that ain't it," Ennis said. He turned and buried himself in Jack's arms, hating his own neediness but unable to help it. His only balm was that he knew that this was the one place he could let it out, and not fear being judged less of a man. "I won't let nothin' happen t'you," he choked out.

"Shhh," Jack shushed him. "It's okay. Ain't nothin' gonna happen t'me."

"I cain't stop thinkin' that it is. I been…" He took a deep breath. "I get these dreams, Jack. Always the same. Dreams 'o you getting hurt, 'n killed, by these men with tire irons. It's been comin' more often of late, though, 'n gettin' worse. I see 'em kill you…and I cain't do nothin' but watch…" He couldn't go on.

He felt Jack tensing a little. "Goddamn your bastard of a father," Jack said. "I c'd kill him for what he done t'you, for those things he put in your mind."

"That don't make 'em any less real."

Jack held him, shushing him with quiet murmurs. "It's just a dream," he whispered. "No one's gonna hurt me, or you."

Ennis wished he could believe it. He sighed and burrowed closer. "I hope you're right," he whispered.

Jack kissed him on the forehead. "C'mon, cowboy. I hate t'see you like this." He rubbed his hand up and down Ennis's back. "Wanna wake me up right?"

"Cain't make everthing okay with a fuck," Ennis muttered.

"No, but sure can take one's mind off things."

* * *

Liz had but one thought in her mind as she stumbled out of her bedroom: coffee. Blessed elixir of life, bringer of joy and vitality and eyes that opened properly. No one was in the kitchen when she got there, but the coffeepot was full. She fetched a mug from the cabinet and filled it, raising her eyes to look out the window over the sink.

Ennis was sitting on the teak deck sofa, one arm resting on the back of the cushion, balancing his own coffee on his knee. Jack was standing near the railing. She couldn't hear them, but judging by where Jack was pointing they were probably discussing the plans to build Junior's bungalow. She sagged against the edge of the sink, allowing herself the rare indulgence of looking at Jack without the fear of being observed.

Pete's uncanny observation and her subsequent admission had, unfortunately, opened the floodgates. Her sleep had been tormented by dreams of Jack, the sort that she wouldn't have dared to relate even to her diary. She'd woken time and again, breathless and hopelessly aroused, just so she could pound her pillow and try to talk herself out of it. Like that ever worked.

She hated it. She hated the fact of it and her own powerlessness to do anything about it. She didn't even want him, not in any realistic sense of the word. She loved how he and Ennis were together. They were special, and what they had was special. It made her think crazily optimistic thoughts about the world to see them together, and to see them living their life. All this was true, and yet she couldn't help the fact that when he smiled it felt like the sun shining inside her.

Jack was returning from the railing now. He perched on the arm of the sofa next to Ennis, one leg propped on the deck. He kept talking, gesturing out towards the river and the old shed, whose days were numbered. Ennis nodded slowly, sipping his coffee, not speaking. As Liz watched, Ennis's hand rose from the back of the sofa cushion, the tips of his fingers tracing aimless arcs across Jack's back. Back and forth, a feather-light, unconscious touch. Jack had fallen silent. He looked out over the backyard, raising his coffee cup to his lips. He shifted back a bit and slipped his arm across Ennis's shoulders. They sat like that, not speaking, for several minutes.

Liz finished her coffee and went back to her bedroom to get dressed, sick to her stomach with envy. _Why can't I have what they have?_ she thought. _Where's the man who'll touch me like I'm priceless? It sure as hell isn't Charlie._

Charlie. She felt moderately guilty for not having called him. Then again, the phone lines traveled both directions. Maybe he was glad to be rid of her. More freedom to screw his secretary in their bed.

* * *

"So it was a snake?" Liz said, bending down and trying to see what Ennis was showing her.

"Yup," he said. "See them holes? Big sucker. Got her right on the inside 'o the leg. Real painful spot, lots of tendons and nerves. Ain't no wonder she spooked and threw me."

Liz nodded. "That's a relief."

Ennis straightened up…moving slowly as he had been all day…and frowned at her. "Relief? How's that?"

She sighed. "Honestly? The thought crossed my mind that…well…Stan Forrester might've found some way to tamper with your horse."

Ennis arched one eyebrow. "Y'think?"

"I know, it sounds stupid now. I mean, the guy's not all-seeing and all-powerful."

"And if'n he wanted t'hurt me, there'd sure as hell be better 'n more reliable ways 'o doin' it."

"I can't help it, I'm a reporter!" she cried. "I see conspiracies everywhere!"

Ennis laughed, then groaned and put his hand to his back. "Fuck," he muttered.

"You okay?" Liz said, going to his side.

"I'm fine," he said, impatiently shooing her away. "Jus' about every part 'o me hurts, is all." They walked slowly back towards the house.

"Ennis?"

"Hmm?"

"Can I ask you something? It isn't about sex," she added quickly, seeing the apprehension on his face.

"Hmph. Okay, then."

"If it were legal, would you marry Jack?"

Ennis frowned and looked at her like he didn't quite get the question. "Would I marry him?"

"Yeah."

"Well…why wouldn't I?"

"You would, then?"

"'O course I would! What kinda fucked up question is that?"

"I was just curious, okay?"

"I made a commitment to him, y'know. He's wearin' my ring, for cryin' out loud. If there was some preacher or judge who'd see fit to make it for real then I'd be firs' in line. But there ain't, and there ain't never gonna be, and so it's no use thinkin' about it or usin' words for each other that ain't true."

"Words? Like 'husband?'"

"That ain't what he is. That ain't what I am."

"What, then?"

He sighed. "I dunno. I guess they ain't invented the word for it yet."

* * *

The call came on Thursday night, at about eight thirty.

Later, she would remember everything. Every little detail. She was sitting in her favorite chair, flipping through "Time" magazine. Ennis was sitting on the couch, his feet kicked up on the ottoman. She even remembered that his socks were slightly mismatched. They were both white athletic socks, but one had red stitching at the toe and the other had green stitching. It had been three days since he'd been thrown; he had been sore for a couple of days but by Thursday was mostly back to normal. Jack slumped at the other end of the couch, legs stretched out in front of him and crossed at the ankle.

They were watching "Magnum, P.I.," mostly because it was the only thing on. "Damn," Jack said. "How's that guy afford a fuckin' Ferrari? He crashes in some rich guy's basement and spends all his money on ugly-ass Hawaiian shirts!"

"It ain't his Ferrari, dumbass. It's the rich guy's."

"That butler needs a beat down."

"I think the butler's really the rich guy," Ennis said.

"You're outta your mind."

"You wait. He's just pretendin' to be the butler so's nobody bugs him none."

"Y'hear this Lizzie? The TV predictions of Ennis Del Mar, seer of seers."

Liz shrugged. "As long as Tom Selleck takes off his shirt, I don't care what else happens."

"Oh, you fancy him, do you?"

"He's gorgeous. So…_manly._"

"Are you serious? Lookit that mustache! Makes him look like a fuckin' porn star."

Ennis raised an eyebrow. "And jus' how would _you_ know what a porn star looks like, rodeo?" Ennis and Liz laughed while Jack turned red, spluttering in protest.

Jack got up. "I'm gonna get a beer. Either 'o you two assholes want one?"

"Gimme one."

"No thanks, Jack."

He headed for the kitchen, pausing to flip Ennis the bird. "Oh, ain't that sweet?" Ennis shouted.

She and Ennis sat in silence while the commercials ran. She heard Jack open the fridge, then the pop-hiss as he opened the bottles. He was in the doorway when the phone rang.

Jack set down the beer bottles and picked up the receiver. "Hello?" There was a long pause. Long enough that both Liz and Ennis looked up. Jack was frowning. "Lureen, I can't understand a thing you're…yeah. What's wrong? _What's wrong?_" he repeated, his voice rising. "Is Bobby okay? Honey, slow down."

Ennis's feet had come down off the ottoman and he was leaning forward, watching Jack's face. Liz put her magazine aside, a cold feeling spreading across her back.

Jack's chest was heaving. "What?" His eyes were wide. "WHAT?" he shouted. Ennis stood up.

"Jack, what's…" he started.

Jack waved him off impatiently, then turned his back and listened, his head down. Liz could see him shaking from where she was. "Oh dear Jesus, no," he said, low and choked. "Oh Christ…" He listened for a long time, his posture curling further and further in on itself. "Yeah." Another long pause. "I'm on my way. No. Hell, no. I'm leaving now. You expect me sometime before mornin'. No, I'll rent a car when I get there." Another pause. "I don't fuckin' care what your father says!" he shouted. "Yeah. You hang on, honey. Okay." He hung up.

Liz and Ennis were both frozen in place, waiting. Obviously, something awful had happened. She felt like she was intruding, but she couldn't seem to move.

Jack stared at the phone for a moment, gasping for air like he was drowning, his eyes unfocused. He looked around like he'd just woken up in a strange place, then began to pace in tight little circles. His hands kept lifting and then falling back, up to his face and drifting away, like they were obeying commands from a malfunctioning system. He was still sucking in great heaving breaths like he'd just run a mile.

Ennis took another step forward. "Jack…what is it, darlin'? What's happened?"

Jack looked at him with no recognition. He turned away and leaned both hands against the wall, lowering his head. He stayed like that for a few moments, then suddenly he drew back and punched the wall, hard. It left a dent. Ennis jumped, the look of alarm on his face intensifying.

Jack turned around. "Bobby's dead," he said, flatly.

Liz gasped, her hands flying to her mouth. Ennis's face was white and shocked. He went to Jack, reaching out for him, but Jack pushed him away. "Oh Jesus…what happened?" Ennis asked.

Jack was staring past Ennis to some point in the middle distance. "He shot himself."

Ennis made a choked sound like a half-sob. He grasped Jack's shoulders. "Dear Lord…Jack, I…" He tried to pull Jack close, but Jack pushed him away again.

"I gotta pack. I gotta get a flight to Texas," he said. His monotone was downright creepy. He wasn't looking at either of them, he wasn't looking at _anything._ His eyes were unfocused, like he was watching something playing itself out inside his own head. He turned and headed to the bedroom.

Ennis glanced at her briefly. She saw on his face the worry over Jack's behavior, and the shock of this terrible news. He followed Jack down the hall and disappeared.

Liz sat still for a moment, but she couldn't stay there. This wasn't her house right now. She got up and fled out the front door to sit on the porch steps. She hugged her knees to her chest, thinking about Bobby, whom she'd never met, and about Lureen, but mostly about Jack…and her still secret wish that she could have been the one to offer him comfort.

* * *

Jack was throwing clothes into a suitcase when Ennis came in. "Jack, stay still just for a moment," Ennis said, taking his arm. Jack threw it off. "Will you let me help you?" Ennis exclaimed. "Quit pushin' me away!"

"I got no time. I gotta get to the airport. I gotta get to Childress."

Ennis pulled his own suitcase out of the closet and opened it up. Jack stopped and looked up at him, his eyes focused on him for the first time. The look in them almost made Ennis take a step back.

"What're you doin'?"

"Packin'."

"Why?"

Ennis was speechless for a moment. "Because…I'm goin' with you, 'o course!"

"No, you ain't. You ain't goin' nowhere."

"Jack, for Christ's sake! I ain't lettin' you go through this alone! I sure as hell ain't lettin' you drive to Burlington in this state!"

"I ain't in no state, I'm fine. I gotta go alone, Ennis." Ennis kept packing. "Goddamnit, Ennis, I said I am _goin' alone!_" Jack roared. He seized Ennis's suitcase and threw it to the floor.

"What the fuck is goin' on?" Ennis said. He was knocked for a hell of a loop by Jack's anger. It was strange to him and made Jack strange, too. "What ain't you tellin' me?"

Jack was clutching at his hair, his head shaking back and forth. He bent over the bed, propping his hands, and for a moment Ennis wondered if he was going to be sick. He let out a few harsh sobs, then got himself under control. He straightened up and wiped his face. "He left a note," Jack said, resuming his packing and keeping his attention focused intently on the task. "Lureen told me. He said he couldn't take no more. Other kids callin' him a queerboy. Askin' him how many _cocks his daddy sucked!_" Jack abruptly looked up and shouted the last words at him. Ennis staggered back and felt behind him for the chair he knew was there, folding himself into it before he fell right down. "This is on me, Ennis. My boy is _dead_ because of me! Because of _us!_" His voice broke and he turned away.

"This ain't your fault," Ennis said, hoping he sounded convincing. "It ain't on you them kids was a bunch of chickenshit assholes who teased him."

"How come he never told me? How come he never told Lureen?" Jack asked no one in particular, his voice plaintive. "We coulda talked about it…I coulda…"

"Maybe he didn't wanna worry you none."

"More like he didn't think there wasn't nothin' t'be done. Why else'd he…he…" Jack put his hands to his face. "Sweet Jesus, Ennis, my boy ate a fuckin' bullet because 'o what I am!"

Ennis got up and went around the bed. He turned Jack around and put his arms around him. It was like embracing an oak tree. Jack's arms were still raised before him, his hands over his face. Ennis rubbed his back, trying to give him any comfort he could. "I am so fuckin' sorry, darlin'," he said, feeling the choke of tears threatening. "But you couldn'ta known. It ain't your fault."

Jack pulled away, gathering his compsure, and closed his bag. He went into the bathroom and Ennis heard him getting together his shaving kit and toothbrush. He felt helpless and impotent. Jack was in more pain that he'd probably ever been, and Ennis had nothing to offer him that he was willing to take. "Jack," he said as Jack emerged from the bathroom. "I gotta go with you." _But I won't tell you the real reason why. I gotta go to make sure no one messes with you. I gotta watch your back, 'cause you're headin' back into the lion's den where everybody knows about you and would like's not kill you for it._

Jack shook his head. "For the last time, no. You ain't comin'."

"I oughta be there with you."

Jack seemed to snap. "Why?" he cried, looking up at Ennis. "_Why_ should you be there, Ennis? So's Lureen can get a real good look at the man I lef' her for? So's L.D. can picture your face when he's imaginin' us lyin' in the morgue side by side 'n burnin' in hell for all eternity? So the whole fuckin' town can see the man what made Jack Twist leave his family and his son t'be tormented into the fuckin' _grave?_ Is that why? So's everybody can know for sure what they only whispered about, that Jack Twist is a giant fucking cocksucker what got his boy killed?" Ennis was mute in the face of this onslaught. "Nothin' to say? You got a better idea? You tell me why, Ennis! Right now! If you got a better reason why you oughta come with me, then you better fuckin' spit it out!"

Ennis looked at Jack's face and something clicked over in his mind. Jack was suffering, and all Ennis wanted was to make it stop. He'd take it onto himself if he could. He'd been by this man's side through a lot of good times and now he damn well wanted to be by his side for the bad ones. There was only one word for that, truthful or not.

"Because," he said, carefully. "I know I ain't never said it, but in all the ways that matter I am your _husband,_ and it's my job t'see you through this."

The fight seemed to leave Jack, gradually, like it was seeping from a hundred shallow wounds. He put on his coat and shouldered his bag, then looked up at him. "Ennis…listen to me, real careful. I love you, you know I do. But I just cain't deal with you right now. I gotta do this. If you wanna help me, you let me go, 'n don't get after me none." He sighed. "I'll call you from Childress."

He walked out, leaving Ennis stunned and mute behind him.

* * *

Liz heard the front door open. She looked over her shoulder to see Jack emerge, a bag over his shoulder. He didn't look at her or acknowledge her, just walked down the stairs to the garage.

She heard Ennis's steps on the porch. He stopped on the top step. Liz stood up and went to his side. He just watched, his face like an Easter Island statue, as Jack's truck backed out of the garage, turned around, and roared up the driveway and out of sight.

Liz could sense him thrumming like a piano wire. She had heard a few raised voices from inside, but no words. Hesitantly, she reached out and slipped her hand into Ennis's larger one. He gripped her fingers immediately. "He's goin' back there, Lizzie," he said, his voice hoarse. "Back t'Texas." He hesitated. "You know what they got a lot of in Texas?"

"What?" Liz whispered.

He looked down at her. "Tire irons."


	14. Chapter 13

Liz lay on her side in bed, watching through her bedroom window as the sky turned from black to gray to pink, and then on to blue. She suspected that this house's walls had seen precious little sleep this night.

After Jack left, Ennis had walked off towards the stables without another word. Liz heard hoofbeats as he rode away. She wondered if he was going off to howl at the moon, or beat drums and dance around a campfire, or some other suitably manly expression of anguish.

She'd gone back inside and tried to settle down, but her mind was bursting with questions. _Why hadn't Ennis gone with Jack? What had they fought about? Why had Bobby shot himself? What had Lureen said?_ She wanted to know, but she didn't think it was her place to ask. She felt awkward even being here. That sense of belonging, almost of family, was sorely tested by the intrusion of a crisis. She felt like a stranger again.

_You could leave,_ she thought. Perhaps she ought to. But she couldn't bear to leave Ennis alone like that. She knew that he was hardly alone…he had friends here, after all…but it still felt like desertion.

She rose and put on her slippers. Ennis was in the kitchen, sitting at the table with his back to her. She saw the thin curl of smoke rising from the long column of ash at the tip of his cigarette, held in one dangling hand. As she watched, the ash dropped off onto the tabletop. She came up behind him and laid a hand on his shoulder; she felt him flinch at the contact. He looked up at her as she came around to sit next to him. His face was closed and pale. "Did you get any sleep?" she asked, gently.

He sniffed. "Not much."

There was no steam rising from Ennis's full coffee cup. Liz wondered how long he'd been sitting here. She hadn't heard him come in the night before.

He took a drag on his cigarette, glancing at her. "I bet you got about a thousand questions, don't you?"

"It's not my place to ask them," she said, quietly.

He raised his head and met her eyes. "Whose, then? Ain't no one else here."

"You don't have to talk about it if…"

"If I don't wanna? I know that, Lizzie." He fell silent. His cigarette was down to the filter. He lit a new one from the old one and took a few drags, letting the smoke trickle from his nostrils. It looked like his life-force was slowly leaking out. "Bet you're wonderin' why I didn't go with him," he muttered.

She sighed. "The thought occurred."

Ennis looked down at the table, one finger rubbing at a nonexistent scratch. "He didn't want me to," he said.

"Why not?"

"Because he says he's gotta do it alone. He thinks it's his fault."

Liz blinked, wondering if she'd heard him right. "His fault? How so?"

He took a few deep breaths. "Lizzie, Bobby shot himself 'cause he was gettin' teased so bad he couldn't take no more. Teased 'bout his daddy bein' queer."

Liz watched his face, waiting for him to take it back, tell her that wasn't true, give her the real reason. "No," was all she could say.

He nodded. "Yeah." He shook his head. "Never said nothin' 'bout it to Lureen or Jack. Said so in his suicide note, though. So now Jack don't want to be shovin' it in everbody's face, like if I was there with him." He leaned forward, stubbed out his cigarette and crossed his arms on the tabletop. "I got a bag packed, Lizzie. I spent mos' 'o the night starin' at it, thinkin' I could just get in the car, go the airport and follow him there. He wasn't thinkin' straight, sayin' I oughtn't come along. I oughta be there with him, right?"

She nodded. "Right, of course."

Ennis ran a hand through his matted hair. "But is it? I'm sittin' here thinkin' mayhap he was right. Bobby was the las' thing tyin' him t'Childress. Now he's gone…that place got no claim on him no more. Maybe it's right he goes there alone to cut the cord." He let his face drop into his hands. "Partly I wanted to go with t'watch his back. But now…maybe he's safer without me there. Less conspicuous. If I was with him it'd be more…I dunno, obvious. It'd be right there in everbody's face."

Liz thought about that. He had a point. Alone, Jack might slip under the radar, but if he had Ennis there at his side, it'd be hard for tire-iron-wielding types to ignore it. "So you're not going, then?"

Ennis shook his head. "He was set on goin' alone. It pains me awful, but I gotta respect what he wants." He got up and dumped out his cold coffee. "So I guess I'll jus' wait t'hear when he's comin' back…or if he's comin' back at all."

* * *

Liz heard Marianne come in the front door at 11:00, right on time. She got up from her desk and met her in the kitchen. "Morning," Marianne said, unloading some groceries. "Where are the boys? I need their laundry."

Liz took a deep breath. "Ennis is out somewhere. Jack's gone to Childress."

That got Marianne's attention. She turned around to face Liz. "That wasn't planned, was it?"

"No. Lureen called last night." The best way to say it was directly. "Bobby shot himself yesterday."

Marianne just stared at her blankly for a moment. "What?"

"Bobby shot himself."

"That's what I thought you said," she said, her tone measured. "Oh no," she breathed. She shut her eyes and crossed her arms over her chest. "Poor Jack."

"It gets worse."

"How can it get worse?"

"He left a note, saying that he did it because he couldn't take the teasing anymore."

"Teasing?" A look of horror passed over Marianne's face. "You mean about Jack." Liz could only nod. Marianne rubbed one hand over her mouth. "Oh, Liz. What's this going to do to them?"

"I can't stop thinking about it."

"My God, the guilt…he must be blaming himself."

"He didn't let Ennis go with him."

"Oh, I think that's best, don't you? People in Childress are going to be upset enough over this, especially if everyone knows why he did it, without Jack showing up with Ennis in tow. It'd surely seem to them as if Jack were flaunting it, even disrespecting Bobby's pain." She shook her head. "Although it must be awful to go through it alone, he'll come back here to do his real grieving. He just has to get through it and hold himself together until he returns, and Ennis will be here for him then."

Liz blinked. How was it that everything sounded so sensible when Marianne said it? "I think Ennis is more concerned with Jack's safety while he's there."

"Of course, he would be. Childress wasn't exactly the most hospitable place for Jack. Word was getting around. It'll be even worse now. Judging from what I've heard of Lureen's father, he'll make sure everyone knows it was all Jack's fault."

"He isn't responsible."

Marianne met her eyes. "Yes, he is. Not entirely, but he isn't exempt, either. He and Ennis made a hard choice when they admitted who they were to each other and moved here. I'm not saying it wasn't the _right_ choice, but everything has consequences. Because of it, Jack wasn't there when Bobby might have needed him. Because of it, people knew what Jack was, and Bobby suffered for it." She sighed. "It's not Jack's fault that people can be so hateful, or that Bobby couldn't find a way to deal with it. And who knows? It might still have happened if Jack had stayed in Childress and never seen Ennis again. But they knew that their decisions would impact Bobby, and Junior and Francie, and probably not in a positive way. Junior and Francie are okay. They had their rough times, but they came through it and they're probably better off with a dad who's happy. Bobby…" Marianne shook her head. "He'll never have the chance to get there. And that is a tragedy."

* * *

Liz drove into town on Friday afternoon, still feeling posh behind the wheel of Jack's Mercedes, her by-default vehicle while she was at the ranch. The mood at home was grim, and she'd decided to get in some more interviews while she had the chance. The sheriff was expecting her, as was Dr. Llewellyn.

Ennis had still been missing in action when she'd left. Marianne had made her an omelet for lunch, and Liz had seen her peering out the back door, clucking under her teeth that Ennis wasn't coming in to eat. "That man is like a timber wolf," she muttered. "He spooks and runs, and goes off to his man-cave to fester and brood. Not like Jack. When Jack gets upset, he runs in a circle waving his arms around and barking like a damned border collie." She dried her hands after scrubbing the sink. "I guess opposites attract."

Liz parked in front of Dr. Llewellyn's office, a modest storefront between a law office and a cheese shop. His receptionist waved her right in.

The doctor was at his desk, much more formally attired than when he'd come to the ranch. He was wearing a white doctor's coat over a shirt and tie, a stethoscope tucked into his coat pocket. He smiled when she entered, that same boyish smile she'd noticed when she'd first met him. "Hello, Liz," he said, waving her into a chair. He came around the desk and sat next to her. Liz recognized the maneuver. He didn't want that doctor/patient dynamic that would be implied if he sat behind his desk.

"Thank you for seeing me, Doctor."

"Please, call me Peter."

"But…Jack called you Pete."

He chuckled. "I prefer Peter."

She regarded him curiously. "You seem a good deal more charitably inclined toward me than you did a few days ago."

He sighed. "I did read you the riot act, didn't I?"

"You made some valid points."

"It's just…" He thought for a moment. "Apart from moving to a city, which we both know they'd never do, Jack and Ennis won't find more tolerance anywhere than they have here. But even here, it's a careful balance. That fulcrum is narrow, Liz. A little pressure to either side and things could become a good deal less hospitable."

"Seems to me there's someone in town already trying to upset that balance."

"Yes, that concerns me too. I've heard that Mr. Forrester has left St. John's and is starting up his own church, along the lines of the one he belonged to in…where was it?"

"Kansas."

"Right. I don't know if he's attracted much of a congregation, but I drove by his house the other night and there were at least ten cars in the driveway. Could have been bridge night, but…somehow I doubt it." He brightened. "In other news, I heard from a patient of mine who works next door to his restaurant that the place has been a ghost town all week."

"That is good news." _The only good news I've heard in awhile,_ she thought.

Peter was watching her, a speculative expression on his face. "You've stayed quite a long time."

"What can I say? The place has grown on me."

"Don't you miss the city?"

"No, surprisingly, I don't. And I'm sure my husband is enjoying this bachelor vacation," she said, chuckling.

Peter nodded. She got the odd feeling she'd disappointed him somehow. "I'm sure he is."

* * *

Marianne was leaving for the day when Liz returned from her interviews. "Any sign of Ennis?" Liz asked as they met on the front porch.

Marianne shook her head. "Still off in his man-cave. Listen, you call me if you need me to come over this weekend. I don't have any plans."

"I'm sure we'll be fine."

"If you talk to Jack…well, you give him my love, and tell him I'm terribly sorry."

"I will." Liz's mind was already halfway to the stables. She bid Marianne a distracted good-night and half-ran to saddle up Clairie. She had a pretty good idea where Ennis might have gone.

Finding her way to the high meadow wasn't as easy as deciding to go there, unfortunately. She hadn't been paying much attention to the pathway, which was barely discernible even when you knew the way, so enamored had she been of the scenery. She managed to find the wooded hill and picked her way up, guiding Clairie with gentle nudges and tugs on the reins, until she finally came out in the exposed hilltop, that Julie Andrews expanse of field with nothing but air between it and the heavens.

Sure enough, Ennis was sitting in the middle of it, his horse munching on a bush nearby. She dismounted and walked toward him quietly. He didn't look up or acknowledge her, although he must have heard her footsteps and Clairie's nickering.

She sat cross-legged at his side, saying nothing. She could feel the anxiety coming off of him in waves; they battered her like the surf on a beach. Somewhere underneath the pounding, she could sense her own heartbreak on Jack's behalf. Her own feelings for him were lost in the shuffle; she was hardly aware of them at this moment. There was just Ennis, and a teenaged boy dead too soon, and somewhere in Texas a man dealing with his son's death without the support of the person he loved the most.

They sat there in silence for a long time. Liz slipped her arm around Ennis's back and let her head rest on his shoulder. She felt him shudder, then exhale a long, shaky breath. His chin dropped to his chest.

When he spoke, his voice was low and rusty, as if he hadn't spoken in years. "I meant to grow old with him," he said.

Liz felt her heart rattle against her ribs at the hopelessness in his voice. "You will," she whispered.

He shook his head. "They're gonna get him. I got this awful feelin'…"

"He'll be fine."

"Lizzie, that dream I told you about…it's been comin' a lot, a lot more'n it ever done before. And now he's gone back where they layin' in _wait_ for him, and you damn well know fuckin' L.D. told everbody…"

"Jack'll be careful."

"He ain't careful. He don't know how. He'll be thinkin' 'o Bobby, and Lureen, and he won't be thinkin' watchin' for it…"

"Shhh," Liz said, trying to stop herself from getting caught up in Ennis's fears, which felt terrifyingly legitimate. "It's gonna be okay."

"And if he does come back…" He met her eyes for the first time. "What if he don't want me no more?"

"I'm sure that isn't…"

"This cost Bobby's life, Lizzie. His _life_. That ain't so simple, and it ain't so easy t'get over." He shook his head. "I don't know how t'fight for him," he said. "He was always the one fightin'. He dragged me ever step 'o the way, but if he don't want it no more I don't know how to keep him." He fell silent for a few beats. "He's stronger'n me," Ennis said, quietly. "I'd never 'o had the balls to get back in touch with him, or keep pushin' for more, or to drive sixteen hours just 'cause he'd gotten divorced. I'd've jus' lived that half-life I had, tryin' not t'think 'bout him every damn second. Everthin' we got's 'cause he wanted it bad enough 'n believed we could have it. I don't know how t'be him!"

"You don't have to be. You're the most important thing in his life, Ennis. He isn't going to give that up, ever."

"Maybe not," he said, grudgingly. "But I cain't stop thinkin' I'm gonna lose him." Ennis sighed. "Twenty years I known that man. Since 1963, that firs' summer. I been sittin' here thinkin' on it, tryin' t'remember everythin'. It's all a blur, Lizzie." He was starting to lose it, and it was alarming. "We got so many plans," he said. "So much ahead of us. Junior's comin' t'stay, 'n we was gonna take a trip to Alaska in August, 'n we're thinkin' 'bout buyin' some more land…so why's it I cain't shake the feelin' that I ain't s'posed t'get no more time with him? Why's it feel like this is it?" He put his hands to his face. "He's s'posed to die an old, old man, and I'm s'posed t'be there with him. Not along some road in Texas, taken away by some fuckers with tire irons, lyin' there all by himself and waitin' for it t'be over, with no one t'give him no comfort, no one t'say goodbye, no one t'hold his hand, waitin' for me t'come 'n save him and me not comin', and me not there t'hear it if he says my name…"

Liz was prepared. When he started shaking she half-turned towards him and folded him into her arms. He crumpled, drawing in on himself like a turtle hiding in its shell. She wondered if he'd cry, but he didn't. He just huddled there, shaking, his breath hot against her neck. Liz held him as best she could, ignoring the sting of tears in her own eyes, trying to tell herself that it could never happen. Jack was safe from gangs of tire-iron wielding marauders. Wasn't he?

* * *

She went with Ennis to church on Sunday. Her antipathy towards religion aside, there was no way she was letting him go alone, and he was determined to attend with or without Jack.

Jack, with whom she was starting to feel annoyed. There had been not one word from him. Not a phone call, not a message. Friday night, she and Ennis had moped around the house, waiting for a call that did not come. Saturday passed in a hazy blur. Neither of them wanted to stray far from the house. They'd done some touch-up work on the barn's paintjob (nighttime painting parties, although therapeutic, were not known for the excellence of their results) and gone for a silent, morose ride to the north paddock.

Saturday evening had passed. The phone had rung twice, making both of them jump in their chairs and Ennis leap for the receiver. He was waiting equally, she knew, for a call from Jack or one from the Childress police informing him that Jack was dead or seriously injured.

Ennis wasn't sleeping very well. He looked drawn and weary, dark circles shadowing his eyes. Would it have killed Jack to take five minutes and call home? He knew Ennis's fears. Every moment that passed with no word was another moment for Ennis to picture him lying dead in a drainage ditch. Neither was the silence reassuring him that Jack wasn't losing his commitment to their relationship. They'd finally given up waiting as Saturday turned to Sunday, and as Ennis rose to go to bed, he'd said, half under his breath, "Well, I guess I know where I rate."

Liz sat at Ennis's side in the very last pew. He'd been greeted by many fellow congregants, all of whom had wondered where Jack was. Ennis would only say that Jack was attending to some family business, and his typically taciturn demeanor didn't encourage anyone to press him for details.

She didn't pay much attention to the service. She doubted Ennis heard a word of it. He stood and sat with everybody else, put his envelope in the collection plate, and mumbled something along with the liturgy, but Liz knew his mind was elsewhere.

Pastor Greenfield had reached the part of the service at which he asked the congregation to offer prayers for those among them hurt or ill. "Finally," he said, as his last request, "I'd ask you all to pray for our friend, Jack Twist." Liz felt a ripple go over the congregation, people turning to their neighbors and wondering what was up. "This morning I was informed that Jack's teenaged son died of a self-inflicted gunshot wound on Thursday evening. Please pray for Jack and his family, and for the soul of his departed son, may he find the peace that eluded him in life."

A number of people turned in their seats to look at Ennis, their faces full of sorrow and shock. Ennis kept his eyes lowered. As the service ended, he grabbed Liz's hand and hurried them out of the church. Several people rushed to offer him condolences. He nodded to them and acknowledged their words, but didn't stop to chat with anyone. Liz was practically running as he dragged her along. "Why the rush?" she said, as they climbed into the truch. "Those people…your friends, they just wanted to…"

"I know what they want, and it's nice 'o them, but I don't want to hear no sympathy jus' now. I knew that'd happen. S'why we sat in the back."

"If you didn't want sympathy, why did you tell the pastor?"

He just looked at her. "'Cause Jack would want me to. He draws comfort from them folks. No reason he shouldn't have it jus' 'cause he ain't here to see it."

* * *

Sunday crept along, second by second, minute by minute, with agonizing slowness. Surely the funeral would be over by now. What was keeping him? Liz would have thought that once the business of death was concluded, Jack would get back home as fast as humanly possible.

Explanations floated through her mind and were discarded or retained as merited. Maybe Lureen was in a bad way and Jack was staying to comfort her. That didn't seem too likely. They barely spoke, and she had her own husband for comfort. Maybe Jack was trying to find out more about why Bobby did what he'd done. That was possible. L.D. would probably want the whole thing swept under the rug, but Jack would want to know everything.

She knew damn well that all Ennis could think was that it was taking so long because Jack was dead, dead, dead and neither Lureen nor L.D. felt obligated to let him know about it.

What _really_ didn't help was that news of Bobby's death had spread through town like a forest fire, and the goddamned phone would not stop ringing. Ennis dove for it every time, and every time he'd sag and get whatever sympathetic friend had called off the phone as soon as he could to get the line free again. Ennis began to regret (loudly, and with invective) his decision to tell the pastor, Jack's wishes be damned.

Evening fell. Liz and Ennis picked at leftover shepherd's pie from Friday night's dinner and drank more than their usual complement of beers. Happily, the flood of condolences had died down. Arlene Trimble had shown up with food, but Liz had quietly filled her in on the situation and she'd gone away quickly, squeezing Liz's arm with a nod of understanding.

The call came at about six thirty.

Just another jangling ring from the receiver on the side table, but they still jumped in their seats. Ennis glanced at her, then picked it up. "Hello?" He listened for a moment. He pressed the receiver briefly to his shoulder. He shut his eyes and let out a breath, then raised the phone again. "Jack." Liz moved quickly to the couch next to him. Ennis reached out blindly for her hand. "Thank God you're okay. I been…" He paused, then exhaled another big breath. "You're at the airport?" He met Liz's eyes, his own full of relief. If Jack was at the airport, there was no further danger from those damned tire irons. "Good, I'm real glad t'hear that." He hesitated. "How are you, bud? Did everythin' go okay?" Pause. "Y'okay, you tell me all about it when you get back. Yeah, I bet you're beat t'hell." He listened. "News? What kinda…yeah, it'll keep. You jus' get back's fast as you can." Ennis listened intently for a few moments. Liz could hear Jack's voice but not his words. "Me too, darlin'. Yeah. You kiddin'? I ain't goin' t'bed. No, I'll be waitin' when you get back, okay?" Another long pause. Ennis was nodding. "I know," he said, his voice a near-whisper. He sighed, his eyes falling closed again. "You come on home, baby," he murmured.

Liz averted her eyes, feeling like she'd just eavesdropped on a moment of rare and sacred intimacy. To hear Ennis call Jack "baby" in that low, private voice just made her painfully aware, yet again, of the lack of such intimacy in her own relationship. If Charlie ever called her that, he'd probably do it in a tone of voice that would make her want to knee him right in the groin.

Ennis hung up the receiver and sat there motionless for a moment. "He's at the airport?" Liz said, needlessly.

He blew air through his teeth, puffing out his cheeks. "Yeah, thank God. He's got a flight to Burlington in about an hour. That oughta put him back here 'afore midnight, maybe a little bit after."

"What'd he say?"

"He said that he's got some news. I think a whole lotta shit went down, but it sounded like he come out of it okay." He stood up and began walking in aimless circles. "Damn, now I'm…I cain't sit still!"

Liz grinned. "It's the relief."

"I feel like I gotta build somethin' or fix somethin' or…somethin'."

"Why don't you take a nap? You've hardly slept."

"Jack sounded exhausted."

"I bet he is, but you are, too."

"No, I am wired like a two-year-old. I cain't sleep." He ran a hand through his hair. "Look, I'm gonna go for a ride, okay?" His tone carried the strong implication that he'd be going alone.

Liz grinned. "You go ahead. I can finally relax and read my book now."

Ennis started to leave, then turned back. He hesitated, then came back to the couch and sat down at her side. "Lizzie, I oughta…" He cleared his throat, shifting uncomfortably. "You been a real friend t'me through this, and I…"

"You're welcome," she said.

He smiled gratefully. "Thanks."

Liz reached out and hugged him. She and Ennis had just been through something together, and all at once she felt so close to him that she felt she could almost read his thoughts. She kissed his cheek, then slapped his shoulder. "Go on, now. Get some air before you decide it's time to paint that damn barn again. And don't forget to shower…don't want Jack coming home to you smelling like cigarette smoke."

* * *

Ennis sat on the porch, waiting. It was just past midnight. Jack's flight had landed at eleven, which meant he ought to be pulling into the drive at any time.

His relief at Jack's safety was potent, but his uneasiness about his emotional state was equally so. Jack hadn't said anything on the phone, and his tone had not given Ennis any hints.

The night was cool and fresh. Ennis felt the same way. Guilt ate at him that he could be so relieved and content when poor Bobby was barely cold in his grave, but he couldn't help it. Jack was his priority. He'd barely known Bobby, and what he'd known of him hadn't inspired any fondness. It was a terrible thing he was dead, but he couldn't muster the emotional resources to mourn. Jack would mourn enough, and it'd be up to him to help him do that and come through to the other side. He didn't relish it. Ennis wasn't exactly a champion of emotional sensitivity. But he'd do it. He'd do whatever needed doing to help Jack.

He looked down at his left hand, surprising himself with the sudden wish, rising to his mind unbidden, that he had a ring, too. Something to point to, a talisman that could ward off all the things that seemed to want to tear it all apart. He'd told Lizzie earlier that he didn't know how to fight for Jack…but maybe he did, after all.

He heard the sound of tires on the drive, and then saw the glow of headlights. He stood up and went down the stairs to the dooryard as Jack's truck crested the ridge. Jack didn't even bother to park the truck in the garage. He just stopped in the middle of the dooryard and got out, hefting his bag onto his shoulder.

Ennis was frozen in place. How would Jack greet him? Would the guilt make him hesitate? Would he look at Ennis and see only the thing that had killed Bobby?

He saw Jack's expression in the greenish glow of the night-lights. It was controlled and rigid, what Ennis thought of as his "I'm dealing with it" face. He shut the truck's door and walked towards the house. Ennis watched him come, frowning. As he drew nearer, his steps quickened, and the "dealing with it" face began to collapse in on itself. Jack wasn't dealing with it anymore. He'd gotten to the place where he no longer had to.

About five steps away he let the bag fall to the ground. He didn't pause, he didn't speak; without even breaking his stride Jack walked right into his arms, throwing his own around Ennis's neck with a choked sob.

He clutched Jack to him, shutting his eyes against the crashing relief of just having him here, and not a moment too soon, by the looks of things. Jack was wracked with sobs that Ennis knew had not been allowed to escape until now. Jack would have rather poked hot branding irons through his eyes than show that kind of vulnerability in front of Lureen or L.D. He'd been saving it up, restraining his grief until he was back where it was safe.

"Shhh," Ennis murmured, rubbing his back. "It's okay, darlin'. You're home safe now."

Jack was unable to reply for several minutes. Ennis felt the wetness of Jack's tears on his shoulder and his damp, feverish cheek pressed against Ennis's neck, and he was grateful. "Ennis," Jack finally choked out. "I'm sorry, it's jus'…"

"You shush now. You don' gotta tell me nothin'. You go ahead 'n cry for your boy. God knows if'n anythin' happened t'Junior or Francie, I'd be a blubberin' blob on the floor."

Jack took a few deep breaths that rattled in his chest and his clogged throat. He drew back. "No, you wouldn't," he said, laying his hand on Ennis's face.

"You mightn't think so, but I surely would."

Jack shook his head. "No. You wouldn't be on the floor. I'd be holdin' you."

* * *

**A/N:**_Okay, sappy ending. But I figured they earned it, just this once. And did anyone REALLY think I was going to kill Jack? Please._

_But this isn't over (damn, it's hard not to write 'ain't' after finishing one of these chapters). The next chapter, which might be longer than normal, will describe Jack's trip to Texas in detail._

_ Also, please feel free to check out or friend my LiveJournal: madlori. _


	15. Chapter 14

**A/N:**_ It took me a long time to get it clear in my head how I wanted to present the characters in this chapter. In particular, I had trouble deciding how I wanted to write Lureen. Did I want her to be hostile? Bitter? Confrontational? I went back to the film (since story-Lureen is pretty much a non-character) for guidance. Film!Lureen seemed like a practical, realistic, non-hysterical sort of person who'd look at things as a businesswoman first, and who didn't hate Jack and may have even admired him, especially in this situation where they divorced in 1975. Therefore, I decided to try and make Lureen's reactions to Bobby's death and Jack's presence less obvious, more complicated, and a good deal less hostile. It could too easily become soapy and melodramatic if she were shouting invective at him, and given that L.D. Newsome is present as a more obvious antagonist, I wanted something else for Lureen._

_As predicted, this chapter is twice as long as the others. I'd been keeping to a pretty strict 5000 word limit per chapter, but I just couldn't see splitting this into two chapters. Forgive the verbosity._

_

* * *

_

Jack sat in the car for a long time. He wondered if Lureen had seen him drive up and was now asking herself why the hell he was sitting out here in the dark. It was almost two o'clock in the morning, but all the lights were burning. His rental car smelled foreign and unfamiliar, but this house was anything but unfamiliar. Thank God fucking L.D. Newsome's car wasn't in the driveway. At least he'd be spared that confrontation for the time being.

Finally, he got out, shouldering his bag, and went to the door. A deep breath, a finger to the bell, and that was that.

He saw her shape behind the frosted glass, diffuse and indistinct. He hadn't seen Lureen in seven years, not since they'd signed the final papers. Since their divorce, he'd come to regret how he'd acted during their last days together. He knew that he hadn't shown much consideration for her feelings. Here she was losing her husband, and while they might not have had the world's most communicative, passionate relationship, they'd gotten along fine. They'd been reasonably involved companions to each other. The news that he was leaving her for a man had to have been a terrible blow, not to mention a humiliating one, but he hadn't taken much notice at the time. He'd just been so damned happy that it was hard to empathize with her. All he could think about was getting back to Ennis and starting their new life. He hadn't had much time or mental energy to give due attention to ending his old one.

Since then, she'd been cordial to him. No more than cordial, but it was a damn sight better than hostile, as Alma often was. They'd even managed a few conversations that might have been called friendly. He had the sense that once she'd gotten over the shock and the talk had died down, she didn't much miss him. The fact that he'd put by enough money to more than pay for Bobby's college couldn't have hurt.

But now…what now? Their son, the one thing that had bound them irrevocably for life, was gone. How much did she hate him? How much did she blame him? It couldn't be any more than he blamed himself.

She opened the door. Jack exhaled. "Lureen," he breathed.

She was in her robe, her hair (several shades blonder than when he'd last seen her) hanging limp like it was freshly washed. Her face was clean of makeup, her eyes and nose red and swollen. She sighed his name, and she sounded glad to see him.

A thousand unsaid things passed between them in the silence. _I'm sorry. I can't believe it. I feel dead. I wish I was dead. What are we going to do? It's my fault. No, it's my fault. I don't know what to do now. How did this happen? I should have taken better care of him. I should never have left him. I should have noticed. I should have been here. Our son. Our baby._

Her lip quivered and she looked away. Jack came in and shut the door behind him, dropping his bag in the entryway. He put a hand on her shoulder. Lureen looked up at him, her eyes swimming. He put one arm around her and hugged her, an awkward semi-embrace that felt like a poorly rehearsed attempt at the real thing. She leaned against him for a moment, heaving a shaky sigh, and got herself under control.

She straightened up and dashed at her eyes. "Come in, then," she said. She glanced past him. "Uh…are you…"

"I came alone," Jack said. An image flashed through his mind of Ennis's face, shocked and hurt, and was just as quickly banished. He couldn't stand to think about Ennis, left behind in Vermont, when all he wanted was to get back there as soon as possible.

Lureen nodded, making a poor show of concealing her relief. "Oh."

They sat down on the couch. Jack took off his coat, glancing around. The house looked exactly, profoundly, depressingly the same. Same couch, same wallpaper, same pictures on the walls. It even had the same smell, like Comet cleansing powder and potpourri. It was like a Twilight Zone episode where seven years passed without any motion, change or growth. It made him feel a little sad for her, stuck here in this neverchanging sagebrush Oz where age was concealed with increasing blondeness. He thought of the changes in his own life in those same seven years. The move to Vermont, the year they'd spent whipping the place into shape, and then to see what it had now become…it set up an unpleasant juxtaposition to think of Lureen, and Bobby, stagnating here in this same house on this same street in this same fucking town while he and Ennis built something completely new and different together. It made him feel guilty.

"So where's Randy? Asleep?"

Lureen sighed. "Randy moved out four months ago." Jack said nothing. "I was gonna tell you," she said, as if he'd accused her of something.

"No, it's fine. It ain't none 'o my business. I'm, uh…sorry t'hear that, though."

She didn't seem too broken up about it. "Well, he found himself someone younger 'n prettier, so that's all right for him, I guess."

"Prettier 'n you? Impossible." That earned him the ghost of a smile.

She took a deep breath. "How've you been?" she said. "You look good."

"So do you. I've been fine, thanks."

"So," she said, in a determined, I'll-get-this-out tone of voice. "How's…" She cleared her throat. Jack waited, eyebrows raised. "How's your…friend?"

Jack sighed. "He has a name."

She met his eyes, her gaze flinty. "How is _Ennis?_" she said, stamping on the words.

He nodded. "He's well." He hesitated. "Thanks for askin'."

Lureen lit up a cigarette. Jack bit his tongue, reminding himself that her smoking habits weren't his to police…which led him to wonder just how many Ennis would smoke while he wasn't there to nag him about it. She glanced down at his hands. "That his ring you're wearin'?" she asked, a hard edge coming into her voice.

"Yeah."

She shook her head, looking away as she blew smoke through her nostrils. "And were you the bride or the groom?" she said, sarcastically.

"Lureen…"

She waved a hand. "Forget it."

An uneasy silence fell. "What happened?" he finally asked, when it became clear she wasn't going to volunteer the information.

She took a deep breath. "Bobby's been workin' at the dealership this summer, I don't know if he told you. Well, he didn't come home, so I called over. One 'o the salesman said he'd left, but he didn't know when. I figured he'd gone out with his friends, or maybe with a girl, you know. When they were lockin' up…" Her voice trembled. "They found him…in a storeroom…he'd, uh…"

He reached out and laid his hand on hers. "It's okay, I got it." He waited while Lureen collected herself. "He did it at the dealership?"

She nodded. "Yeah."

"And where was this note?"

"Daddy said it was pinned to his shirt."

"Can I see it?"

"The police got it. I'm sure if you asked, they'd…" She trailed off.

"Did you see it?"

She nodded. "I saw a copy Daddy brought me, but I don't got it here." She wiped her eyes. "Daddy took care 'o everythin'."

"Is he…can I…" Jack didn't have the vocabulary to ask his ex-wife if he could see his dead son's body. How did a person's life experience prepare him to make such a request? His certainly hadn't.

Thankfully, Lureen seemed to understand. "I'm sorry, Jack, he's bein' cremated in the mornin'. We're gonna have kind of a memorial visitation tomorrow, then a service on Saturday with an interment, family only." She sat back. "It's all arranged," she said, her voice dull. He watched her face, her slack muscles, the tiredness and the pallor of her still-unlined skin.

Jack just had one more question. "Did he suffer?" he whispered.

Lureen met his eyes. "No."

He nodded. He stared at his own hands, conscious of Lureen's limp form draped against the back of the couch at his side. "How much d'you hate me right now?" Jack asked. She turned and looked at him, surprised.

"What?"

"You mus' hate me. I wouldn't blame you if y'did."

Lureen seemed to shrink a little. Her arms drew close to her body, her chin dipping down. "I don't hate you," she murmured. She stubbed out her cigarette and leaned forward, elbows on her knees, face in her hands. "Whyn't he _say_ somethin'?" she moaned. "Nothin'! Not a word. Not t'me, or Daddy, or you, or Randy, not to nobody who mighta been able to help him through it. How could he let it get so bad 'n not say a goddamned word!" She dropped her hands. "I don't blame you. I blame _him,_" she said, the last word lost in a sob that was quickly swallowed. "How could he do this t'me? T'you? I jus' don't _understand_," she said, her hands going to her face again.

Jack slid closer and put his hand on her shoulder. He could feel her bones through her skin, slender and birdlike, quivering as if battered by invisible winds. "God, I jus' don't…I dunno what to feel, or how to feel it," he said, hoarse. "He died 'cause 'o me…"

She sniffed. "That's what Daddy keeps sayin'." She looked up at him. "Oh, he's powerful mad at you," she said. "It's like he's been waitin' on a reason t'be, and he ain't had one since you paid him back 'n all…"

"He had a good enough reason all this time," Jack said, unable to hold back the bitterness. "Mos' folks 'round here didn't need no more reason than that I was queer t'hate me. That seemed to do jus' fine."

Lureen got still and quiet. "Queer or not, this ain't on you," she whispered.

Jack thought he might cry, although he'd sworn he wouldn't let himself do so while he was in Childress. It could wait, it _had_ to wait, until he was home. He didn't know if he could handle having a breakdown without Ennis there to pick up the pieces and put him back together again. "How c'n you be so kind t'me?" he managed. "How, when it made Bobby so miserable…"

"But he wasn't," Lureen said, frowning. "That's what's got me so confused, Jack. He wasn't miserable, not s'far as I could tell. I never saw no sign, and believe me, I been thinkin' back as far as I can, tryin' to see somethin' I missed, somethin' that would explain it and there ain't nothin'. It was only this past two weeks he got quiet, and spent most of his time in his room. I jus' thought he was bein' moody, like boys get sometimes." She sagged. "I didn't see it. He hid it awful well, and that's surprising t'me. Bobby wasn't no good at hidin' how he felt."

"No, he sure wasn't," Jack said, thinking of Bobby's barely-concealed hatred of Ennis that had been on display during his visits. "He never made no secret 'o how he felt when he visited me."

Lureen looked up, frowning. "How he felt? What d'you mean?"

"He didn't think much 'o me," Jack said, sighing in resignation. He'd tried to be a good father, but sometimes he thought it just wasn't in him. His own father hadn't provided much of an example. He and Bobby were nothing alike, and his desertion hadn't helped matters much. It pained him that he seemed doomed to have naught but a barely-tolerable relationship with his only child, but he didn't see as there was much he could do to change it. _And now you can never change it,_ his mind chimed in. Jack's heart lurched and squeezed at the thought.

But Lureen just looked puzzled. "What makes you say that?"

"Well…when he'd visit, he wasn't none too friendly. Never had a civil word for Ennis, scarcely better for me."

"But Jack…he _bragged_ about you."

Jack stared at her, stunned into silence. "He…what?"

"He always told everybody how you used to ride the bulls, and he'd boast about how you had a big fancy cattle ranch with twenty horses in the stable." She shook her head. "He used to tell the story of how you'd put Daddy in his place that time at dinner, when you were here signin' the divorce papers, how you called him…what was it?"

"An ignorant son of a whoreson bitch," Jack said, distractedly, his mind racing.

"That's it," Lureen said, a half-smile curling the corner of her mouth. "Jack…I'd have said he was proud of you."

"But…what I am, it cain't have been easy…"

Lureen looked away. "I think he pretended you weren't," she said, looking down at her hands. "He just put it out of his mind."

"Which got hard to do when he'd come to visit, and there'd be Ennis…" Jack ran a hand through his hair. "Damn, it makes some kinda sense. If'n he had all these ideas about me and comin' t'see me dashed 'em all to pieces." He shuddered. "That don't change nothin', Lureen. If I hadn't gone away, if I hadn't been this way, he'd have never…"

"Jack, if you'd stayed here we'd all have been miserable and there would _still_ have been talk about you all over town only it'd have been _worse_ 'cause you'da been around. Out of sight, out of mind. Honest, I ain't heard no talk 'bout you around town in years. I got no idea where all this teasin' was comin' from, or where these schoolboys heard anythin'…God knows Daddy wouldn't hear no mention of how you live." She stopped and took a breath. "No. I had a lot 'o time to think on it, and you done the right thing. No matter what I think 'o your life…no, shush, it ain't none 'o my business, you don't need t'hear my opinion…you finally done the right thing by me when you told the truth. I didn't need you stayin' outta some kinda obligation and I damn well know the only reason you stayed s'long as you did was because Ennis wouldn't leave his family." She shut her eyes. "Dammit, Jack. Why'd you ever marry me in the firs' place? Was it just for the money?"

"No! I never…"

"Was it just to keep up appearances? Did you ever feel anything?" She was working herself up. They'd never talked about this. The divorce proceedings had been quick, almost clinical, and they'd avoided any conversational topic more involved than the weather.

"'O course I did!" he exclaimed, anxious to head this off at the pass. "I thought you were real pretty, and smart, and…well…"

"It was just something to do."

He sighed. "In a way. That ain't fair to you."

"None of it is," she said, choking up again. "It wasn't fair t'me, or Bobby, and now he's gone, and…" She looked away, pressing a fist to her mouth. "I spent the last seven years makin' my peace with who you are, Jack."

"Thanks," he said.

She frowned. "For what?"

"For saying '_who_ you are' instead of '_what_ you are.'"

She sighed. "You ain't a bad man, Jack. I don't know what it was made you…that way. But at least you ain't lyin' about it no more. At least you done stood up t'be counted, 'n owned it like a man. That's more'n I can say for half the assholes in this town."

Jack leaned back, rubbing his eyes. "Lureen, I don't deserve this kinda gift from you, I surely don't."

"What, you think if you'd been here this wouldn'ta happened? If you had been here, what would you have done? Somehow figured out what no one else here saw? You ain't _that_ smart, you know. You think you'da had some kinda magic daddy wisdom that woulda made it all okay? I'm sorry, but you didn't have much magic daddy wisdom before. You done the best thing for Bobby when you left this town and took all them rumors with you, and that's hard t'say, but it's the truth." She stood up, lighting another cigarette. "If you weren't queer, he wouldn'ta got teased, is that what you think?"

"It's the truth, isn't it?"

She took a long drag. "I don't know, I really don't. A friend 'o Bobby's used to get it left, right 'n center 'cause his daddy's white but his momma's black. Is that his momma's fault? Could she help bein' black?" She shook her head. "Quit wallowin' in it, Twist. You blamin' yourself ain't gonna bring him back." She rubbed at her forehead "If it's anyone's fault it's mine. I didn't see he was hurtin'," she said, tears creeping into her voice again. She looked down at him. "I don't know if you're goin' t'hell. I don't know if I am. I jus' know you are the way you are, and I was glad t'see you take it and yourself far, far away, and you did the best you could t'make sure Bobby wouldn't be the worse for it. Wasn't nothin' more t'be done."

Jack stood up. "Y'know, I came here ready for you to throw stuff at me."

"I can if you want me to."

A beat of silence passed. In other circumstances, they might have smiled. As it was, they could only manage a couple of weary sighs.

* * *

Lureen showed Jack to the guest room. "Sheets're clean," she said, sounding ready to drop dead of exhaustion. "You know where everthin' is."

He nodded, setting his bag on the bed. "Lureen…it ain't right, you havin' t'go through this alone."

She nodded. "Well…I ain't alone now, am I?" They shifted uncomfortably in the doorway. Lureen cut her eyes away. "Goodnight, Jack," she said. "It's good t'see you," she added, half-under her breath. She turned and walked off down the hall.

Jack felt weariness crashing down on him. He couldn't do much more than strip down to his shorts and climb into bed. He turned on his side and hugged a pillow, feeling cold and alone. It was hardly the first time he'd slept somewhere without Ennis. Business took him on frequent trips, most of which lasted several days, but those trips didn't leave him feeling raw and ripped open and wishing for the comfort of Ennis's embrace.

Lureen's equanimity had been a shock. Her readiness to excuse him was incomprehensible. He was gay, therefore Bobby had been teased, therefore Bobby was dead. Seemed a direct cause-and-effect to him. On the other hand, perhaps taking all the guilt onto himself was a convenient way to avoid thinking more disturbing thoughts. _Why had it driven Bobby so far? How had he hidden it so well? Kids get teased all the time, most of them don't shoot themselves. He had plenty of friends, how did he become a target? Had there been something else going on with him that made him unable to handle it?_

_My sweet boy,_ he thought. Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes, but he wouldn't let them fall. _Not till I get home,_ he told himself. _Not till I'm back with him._

_

* * *

_

He didn't wake up until almost noon. The sun was bright shining through the window, and he heard voices in the house. _Fuckin' L.D.,_ he thought. Still, the idea of facing his ex-father-in-law didn't have the power of dread it once had. The last time he'd seen him, when he'd come to finalize the divorce, he'd finally found the gumption to shout the man down. He didn't even remember what had sparked it. L.D. had probably called him a faggot for the thousandth time. What he did remember was the soul-deep satisfaction of letting loose on the old son of a bitch. He remembered L.D. trying to stare him down, then finally giving up and slinking away; he remembered the look of barely-suppressed glee on Lureen's face, and the way her eyes had cut to him admiringly.

Most of all he remembered feeling like a man, a real-live grownup, for the first time. He'd felt worthy, and that was a strange, new feeling. In the time since he'd only acquired more reasons to feel worthy, and all he had to do was walk out there and own it, and he hoped L.D. would remember having been put in his place and stay there.

He showered and dressed, took a deep breath, and walked out into the living room. Lureen had a pale smile for him. She was dressed and put together, but she still looked awful tired. L.D. stared at him, his face red and pinched, but Jack pretended he didn't notice. "Sorry I'm so long abed," he said.

"You had a late night," Lureen said. "Thought I'd let you sleep."

He went up to her father. "L.D.," he said evenly, and held out his hand. "Nice to see you again. I sure as hell wish the circumstances was better."

He could _see_ the man running retorts and insults through his head, wondering which one to hurl at him. He just waited calmly, holding L.D.'s gaze, his hand extended. Finally, L.D. looked away and shook his hand, briefly. "Twist," he growled.

That'd do. "Hello, Fay," he said, bending to kiss Lureen's mother's cheek.

"Jack," Fayette said, quietly, casting a sideways glance at her husband.

Jack went on into the kitchen, where Lureen was getting lunch together. He went to her side and wordlessly began to chop tomatoes for the salad. She elbowed him gently. "Stud duck gave you a pass," she murmured.

"Yeah, well, I make more money'n him. S'all he understands."

The visitation was to begin at two o'clock. Jack put on a coat and tie, marveling that he'd managed to pack the appropriate clothes while shouting at Ennis and trying to control his own grief. He stared at himself in the mirror, hearing Ennis's voice. _Shit, rodeo, you look like death warmed over. Ain't you get no sleep? Drink some coffee, for cryin' out loud. Folks see ya with your eyes all at half-mast like that they'll be like t'think you're a few steer short of a stampede._ Jack shut his eyes, wishing he could feel Ennis's hands on his shoulders or see the hint of a smirk on that granite face. No use lingering on it, though. There was things to be seen to here.

He picked up his car keys and headed to the foyer. L.D. was waiting there. "Womenfolk still gettin' ready," he grumbled. Jack nodded.

They stood there in silence for a moment. "So, me 'n Lureen'll take my rental," he said. "Seein's I blocked her in."

L.D. looked at him. "Lureen'll come with me 'n her mamma," he said.

Jack met his gaze. "She'll come with me. He's our son."

Seems he'd found L.D.'s sticking point, after all. "You don't deserve to even say that word," the man hissed.

Jack sighed. "I don't wanna get into this with you, Newsome."

"If'n I had my way you wouldn't be allowed within a hunnert miles 'o this place," L.D. said, jabbing a finger into Jack's chest. "Seein's you're the reason my boy's dead."

"He was _my_ boy," Jack said, his own temper flaring.

"I'd make it not so if I could, you filthy little faggot," L.D. growled.

Jack drew himself up as much as he could. "I'll let that go 'cause I got my own guilt to deal with, but I ain't gonna stand for your abuse, L.D. Not when you never gave a shit 'bout Bobby 'cept as it affected you. Oh yeah," Jack said, taking a step closer. "He told me. He told me all you cared 'bout was that he played football 'n went into the business, so's he could make you look good 'n give you somethin' t'brag about to all your ignorant redneck friends. You ain't give a shit 'bout what he was feelin'. Mayhap if you had, he'd've had someone t'talk to when he was havin' troubles instead 'o doin' what he done." Jack shook his head. "Least I tried t'talk t'him like a person, stead of a fuckin' appendage."

L.D. didn't appear to have heard any of this. "That boy done killed hisself 'cause he couldn't stand the thought of his queer daddy livin' with his fuckin' candy-ass boyfriend on that ranch," he said, the finger back to jabbing once again. "I bet you like it, dontcha?" he said, leaning forward, his eyes taking on an alarming, crazy quality that Jack didn't care for one bit. "You like bein' a dirty homo? I bet you love it. You like takin' it up the ass, huh? You like suckin' cocks?"

Jack arched one eyebrow. "Gee, L.D., you sure have thought about this a lot."

The last bit of restraint left Newsome's eyes. He drew his fist back across his chest, aiming to strike Jack backhand. He swung his arm but Jack caught it, its meaty girth slapping into his palm. He met L.D.'s eyes as calmly as possible. "You don't wanna get into it with me, you son of a bitch," he said, hoping his voice sounded steely and resolute. He wasn't too confident about his ability to stand his ground without Ennis around to back him up and make him feel strong. "Old man or not, I will put you on the fuckin' ground. I will _not_ stand for you disrespectin' me when I jus' lost my only child."

L.D. tried to free his arm but Jack held it for another moment before letting it go. L.D. took a step back, the cautious rationality returning to his expression. He harrumphed. "You done growed some balls, rodeo?"

Jack would have let it go. He should have let it go, he would later think. But to hear that word spoken to him with such contempt when he was accustomed to hearing it spoken with respect and affection worked on his last nerve. "I guess I have. And you don't get t'call me 'rodeo' no more, Newsome."

"Why not?"

"Because, you old bastard, that is what my husband calls me. That is his word now, and he is ten times the man you'll ever be."

L.D.'s lip curled and he recoiled, a look of horror passing over his ruddy features. "You disgust me," he spat.

"That's jus' fine. You go ahead 'n be disgusted. I'll be gone in a day or so and I'll be glad t'go. But we're not here t'go round 'n round over how disgustin' I am or how big of a prick you are. We are here for Bobby, and for his sake and Lureen's, I suggest we call a truce so's we c'n pay our respects to him 'n let Lureen have some peace." L.D. seemed to consider this. "We agreed?"

Newsome gave a brisk nod. "Agreed."

Lureen and her mother came into the foyer, dressed for the visitation. Lureen was made up careful, but her eyes still looked red. Fay had her by the arm. Jack saw Lureen's eyes flick from her father to him and back again, then she moved to Jack's side.

"Daughter, you go with ro…with Twist," L.D. said, looking away. "Me 'n your mother'll be right behind you."

* * *

The funeral home was familiar to him, too. They'd had the service for Lureen's great-aunt Tessie here, as well as L.D.'s brother Gilly. Jack hadn't thought that one had a visitation when the departed had been cremated, but since Lureen wanted a small, family-only service for his interment, he supposed it was a chance for friends and more distant relations to come and pay their respects.

He sat by Lureen's side as the afternoon wore on into evening. She kept herself under control for the most part, allowing herself only one brief crying jag against his shoulder while her mother was off in a huddle with her hen-party friends.

In the car on the way over, Jack had asked the question that had been on his mind all day. "Lureen, does…well, does everbody know why he done it?" He needed to know if he had to prepare himself to be despised by everybody who came through.

She shook her head. "No. Daddy kep' that real quiet. He doesn't wanna dredge up no more 'o that talk."

"I bet not. But…what about these boys was teasin' him? Surely they…"

"I don't know, Jack," Lureen almost wailed. "Cain't you let it be? I cain't think no more, I jus'…" She turned her face to the window, and Jack let the matter drop.

Now, watching the mourners walk through and pay their condolences to Lureen, he kept waiting for someone to cast an angry glance at him, or whisper about him, or outright say something to him, but no one did. They just shook his hand and said they were awful sorry, what a terrible thing it was, such a shame about someone so young, and God works in mysterious ways. He saw some old friends, some folks they used to church with, some fellas from the dealership and their wives. People he never thought he'd see again, people who surely had to have wondered about his sudden divorce and disappearance. He had one awkward conversation after another, never sure if the person he was talking to knew the truth or not, skirting around the issue and being careful with his pronouns. _Yep, I own a ranch up in Vermont. Cattle, mostly. It's real pretty, yeah. No, ain't got no more kids. Town's real nice, I like it. No, I ain't single no more. Yep, we own the ranch together._ He watched their eyes for clues. He wished folks would just leave him be. It was agonizing.

These intervals of small talk were intermittent, thankfully. For most of the day, he just sat and stared at Bobby's urn, placed artfully next to a framed photograph, his most recent school picture. Smiling and handsome, dark hair like his own, big smile like his mother. _Christ, Bobby. I was so excited to find out what kind of man you'd be. I couldn't wait for that time when you might understand about me, and when we might talk about it and come to our peace. I wanted that for us. I wanted you to come work on the ranch over the summers. I wanted to ride with you and teach you about my work. I wanted you and Ennis to get to be friends, like me and Junior. I wanted to see you grow and learn and make something of yourself, maybe even leave Childress…meet somebody special, make me a grandpa. I just wanted you to be as happy as I am._ He pulled out his handkerchief to blot the tears that slowly leaked down his cheeks. His head felt sore and stupid, like it was stuffed full of too many thoughts and feelings.

After suppertime, a lot more folks started coming in. Teachers, and some kids Bobby's age. He saw a couple of boys and a girl huddled together in a corner. The girl was crying, and one of the boys had his arm around her. "Who're those kids?" he asked Lureen.

"Oh, some of Bobby's friends. They were 'round the house a lot."

Jack got up, his knees popping from the long period of sitting, and approached them. "Howdy, kids," he said, trying not to sound forbidding. "Mrs. Calhoun says you was friends with Bobby?"

One of the boys nodded. "Yessir, we surely was." His eyes widened. "Oh, are you Bobby's dad?"

Jack nodded. "Jack Twist," he said, shaking the young man's hand. "It's nice to meet you."

"I'm Jimmy, this here's Duke, and this is Linda. It's sure nice to meet you, sir. We heard a lot 'bout you from Bobby."

"Is that so," Jack said, dully. "It's nice 'o you to come 'round."

Linda wiped her eyes. "We was good friends," she said. The two boys looked miserable, like they wished they could cry too, but didn't dare. "I'm gonna miss him terrible."

"Was you his girlfriend, miss?"

"Oh no, we was just friends. For years 'n years."

"Tell me…did he ever talk t'any of you 'bout the trouble he was havin'?"

Duke shook his head. "We didn't know he was havin' no trouble, sir. These last couple 'o weeks he was kinda quiet, but nothin' t'make us worry none."

"So, he never mentioned no teasin'?"

The three kids exchanged a puzzled glance. "What teasin'?" Linda asked, frowning.

Jack didn't want to divulge anything from Bobby's note, especially if these kids didn't know he'd left one. "I'd heard that he mighta been down 'cause he was gettin' teased. You know, 'cause 'o me."

"I never knew he was gettin' teased none," Jimmy said. "If I'd known anyone was hasslin' him I'da kicked their asses for 'em. Anyhow, why'd anyone tease him 'bout you? 'Cause you and his mom's divorced?"

"'Cause of…well, 'cause…" They were looking at him blankly. "'Cause 'o what I am."

"What you are? What, are you Jewish or somethin'?"

They didn't know. Jack sighed. "Or somethin'. Thanks, kids. And thanks for comin' by. I'm sure glad to know Bobby had such nice friends." _Friends he didn't talk to, apparently. Friends who knew nothing about this alleged teasing. Friends who had no idea I'm gay, even though these unidentified bullies somehow knew._ Jack was past confused and edging into suspicious. But this wasn't the time.

He returned to Lureen's side and put it out of his mind, as much as that was possible.

* * *

He sat on the edge of the guest-room bed, staring at the phone. _Call him. He's probably worried sick. You know he thinks there are marauding gangs of good old boys with tire irons waiting around every corner to bash your brains in. He's gonna be wondering if they've got you already._

He _wanted_ to call Ennis. Badly. He could close his eyes and picture him, sitting on the back porch with a cigarette in his mouth, feet kicked up on the table, his eyes narrowed down to little points in the darkness. He could picture him in bed, bare-chested and lying there on his back, staring at the ceiling, the other side of the bed empty and still made up.

He picked up the phone. Set it down again. Picked it up again and dialed…then slammed it down again. _If I hear his voice, I'm gonna lose it._ And he couldn't lose it. He had to keep it together, just long enough to get through this damned funeral tomorrow, long enough to get on a plane and get his ass back home as fast as he could.

He got into bed and curled up on his side. _Don't worry, cowboy,_ he thought. _No one here even remembers me no more or cares. I'm old news._

_So how the hell is it that Bobby was hearing about it every damned day?_

_

* * *

_

The thing Jack remembered most about his son's funeral was that it was so small. The urn was so _small._ That couldn't be all of him. How could all of him, everything he was, fit inside that little urn? And what was inside? If he looked, would he see teeth? Bits 'n pieces? Or would it just look like campfire ashes?

He held Lureen's hand, her face veiled in black, as the minister said his piece. No more than fifteen people stood around in the mausoleum. He recognized some of them, but not all. No one paid him much mind. These people, he was sure, knew why he'd left Lureen, but most of them were probably too polite or mindful of the occasion to get up in his face about it.

And then…the minister slid Bobby's urn into the slot and closed the door, and that was all. Jack stood before it and let his fingers run over the lettering: "ROBERT LAWRENCE TWIST, 1966-1983" A couple of flowered wreaths stood on easels nearby, like they were guarding his rest. Jack felt a sudden urge to grab the urn, run outside with it and fling the ashes into the wind. _Boys shouldn't be cooped up inside all the time. Boys need fresh air and sunshine, they need to run and play and ride and fight._

He leaned his forehead against the cool marble of the mausoleum wall, his hand resting on Bobby's plaque. _God help me but I never wanted a child,_ he thought. _Is this my punishment now? God grantin' my wish once it was too late to go back? Is this him sayin 'Okay, you queer who don't want no kids, how's about this…I'll give you one anyway, then when you've come to love him I'll take him away.'_

Lureen came up next to him. "Let's go, Jack," she said, gently prying his hand off the plaque. "Time to get along."

* * *

The usual post-funeral chowdown took place at Lureen's house. Seemed like every woman in Childress had brought something; the dining table groaned under the weight of several dozen dishes. Jack sat alone in the corner, watching people talking in low voices and shoveling deviled eggs and Waldorf salad into their mouths, wondering who in the name of heaven had thought up this bizarre custom. He heard Ennis's voice again. _Lookit 'em, rodeo. Gorgin' themselves like it's goin' out of style. A boy jus' went in the ground 'n all they worried about's the damn Jello salad. Ain't they know what's in Jello? Leftover bits 'o dead horses. It's fuckin' disgustin'. Let's get outta here. C'mon, I'll buy us a coupla beers and kick your ass at pool. Then maybe later I'll have some additional business with your ass, if'n you play your cards right._ Jack shook his head, almost able to see Ennis leaning in the corner in the shadows, not wanting to come out and mingle but just to nurse a beer by himself. He pushed the thought away.

People began to leave around three o'clock. Jack took the opportunity. "I got somethin' to take care of," he murmured in Lureen's ear. "I'll be back later."

She glanced up at him, puzzled. "All right, then." She didn't ask him what possible business he could have in a town he hadn't been in for seven years, and he was glad not to have to make something up.

The police department headquarters were quiet on a Saturday. Jack just hoped the person he needed to speak to was there. "Can I help you?" said the desk sargeant.

"My name's Jack Twist. I'm Bobby Twist's father."

"Oh, that poor boy what shot himself. I'm sorry for your loss."

"Thanks. Listen…I was hopin' I could speak to the officer who took care of things."

"That was Detective Baylock," she said. "He ought to be upstairs. Lemme give him a buzz for you."

Baylock came downstairs to meet him. He was tall and wiry, but had a kind face. "Mr. Twist. I'm sorry about your son."

"Thank you, Detective. C'n I ask you some questions? My ex-wife don't have much information, and Mr. Newsome and I don't exactly get on."

Baylock chuckled. "You and half the town. Come on upstairs, then." He led Jack up to a squadroom that looked like a hundred squadrooms Jack had seen on TV. He motioned Jack into a metal chair next to a desk with a nameplate that read "Kyle Baylock, Detective." "I understand you live in Vermont," Baylock said.

"That's right. I own a ranch up there."

"Beautiful country. My brother went to Dartmouth, and I visited him there a few times. When did you get into town?"

"Real late Thursday night. Mrs. Calhoun called me at home to let me know…what happened."

"Yeah. It's a terrible thing."

"Can you tell me what happened? Mr. Newsome ain't too forthcomin' with the details."

Baylock regarded him soberly. "I don't know how much detail you _want,_ Mr. Twist."

"I need to hear it."

"All right, then. A man who worked at the dealership called the police, saying that one of their employees had shot himself. I went out to check, and sure enough. He'd shot himself through the mouth."

"And…it was quick, then?"

"Instantaneous. The bullet went through his skull from bottom to top. And if you're thinking it might not have been suicide, well…best as I can tell, it was. No prints but his on the gun. Gunpowder residue on his arm, hand and clothes, and the angle of the bullet was just right for that kind of wound."

Jack nodded. "And…this note he left. My ex-wife saw a copy, but not the original. She said you had it."

"I surely do."

"Who's seen it, besides you?"

"Just Mr. Newsome, and possibly the paramedic that pronounced him dead on the scene. But I don't think that fella paid too much mind to the note."

"May I see it, please?"

"Sure. I'll get it." Baylock got up and left the room. He was gone for several minutes. When he returned, he had a flattened-out piece of notebook paper in a plastic bag. "Here you go."

Jack took a deep breath, steeled himself, and looked down to see the last words his son had left on this earth.

As he read the note, an odd sensation came over him. An icy calm descended, blotting out all anger, fear and anxiety. Everything seemed so clear, so direct and simple. He read it twice to be sure he wasn't hallucinating. Baylock was watching him. Jack looked up at him. "Could you make me a copy of this?"

* * *

Hours passed. He drove and drove. He wasn't sure where he was going, he just needed the motion and the distraction. He drove fast along the two-lane back roads, too fast. _Slow down, hoss,_ Ennis said. _I cain't have you splatterin' your fine self all over some ditch beside some godforsaken Texas road like an armadillo. If there ain't no tire irons around, I sure as hell ain't gonna stand for gettin' no call from no state troopers tellin' me my man's just wrapped his rental car 'round some tree._

It was dark by the time he made it back to Lureen's house. L.D.'s car was still in the driveway. _Good._

Jack yanked the front door open. Lureen and L.D. were sitting in the living room, watching the news. Jack strode across the floor, grabbed L.D. by the lapels and yanked him to his feet. "You son of a bitch," he growled. He'd sworn he wouldn't, but his arm cocked back on its own and let fly. He punched L.D. in the jaw, knocking him back into the chair.

"Daddy!" Lureen cried, going to his side. "Jack, what the hell's gotten into you!" she shouted up at him, confusion and anger in her eyes.

Jack barely heard her. "You _used_ my son's death just to get some kinda fuckin' _revenge_ on me?" he yelled. "How _dare_ you?"

"What are you talkin' about?" Lureen yelled back.

Jack came back to the present with difficulty, and looked at her. "Bobby wasn't gettin' teased, honey. Your precious father _made it up!_ That note he showed you? _He_ wrote it! He made it all up just so's I'd feel guilty, just so's you and me'd both think that Bobby died 'cause 'o me being a _filthy faggot!_"

Lureen stood up, wavering a little bit. L.D. was glaring up at Jack, rubbing his chin but not seeming overly damaged by Jack's wrath. "That ain't true," she said.

"Oh no? This is the _real_ note," Jack said. "I got it from the detective who saw to Bobby. It wasn't about me at all. It was over some fuckin' _girl_," Jack sobbed, the bitter irony striking him again. "He met her two weeks ago. She was his first…you know. He thought he was in love, but she told him he was jus' a little boy 'n she didn't wanna see him no more. Look at the note," he said, handing it to Lureen. "He says he cain't stand to live without her." She stared at it, and Jack wouldn't have thought it was possible for her to go any paler. "God," Jack said. "To do this over some girl he barely knew." Jack wasn't sure which truth was worse. "But your _father_ thought this'd be a good chance to make me suffer!"

L.D. stood up. "He _ought_ to suffer!" he roared, pointing at Jack but looking at Lureen. "For marryin' you when he knew he was a deviant, and for hurtin' you 'n humiliatin' you! He oughta to _pay_ for it! But has he? Oh, no! He's livin' the high life up in Vermont with his faggot boyfriend, goin' round all Homo on the Range, rakin' in the dough and fancyin' himself so far above decent God-fearin' people!"

"My God, L.D.!" Jack said. "How'd you think this'd ever get by? Did you think we were _stupid?_ Didja think we wouldn't talk t'Bobby's friends, that we wouldn't figure it out? Or didja just think that 'cause you said it went down this way that we'd just bow down 'n accept it 'cause you're fuckin' L.D. Newsome and your word is law?" Tears were running down Jack's face again. "Your own grandson, you bastard. Don't you have no feelings at all? Didn't you love him even a little bit? How could you _do_ this to him? Did I embarrass you _that_ much?"

"Yes!" L.D. cried. "They all talkin' about it behind my back, I know it! How I had a queerboy workin' for me all them years 'n never caught on! They think I don't know, but I know! I hear them when they think they bein' all quiet and secret!" Jack exchanged a glance with Lureen, and was glad to see from her expression that L.D. sounded just as crazy to her as he did to Jack.

"Daddy," Lureen said, her voice calm and deadly. "You leave my house, right now. You ain't welcome here no more."

"Daughter, I jus'…"

"Get out right now!" she screamed, fists clenched, eyes screwed shut.

L.D. sighed and heaved himself out of the chair. He picked up his coat and stalked past them to the entryway, then turned back. Lureen followed him. "You gotta know, daughter. You sidin' with that pervert against your own kin. God sees all, y'know. Mayhap he took your child to punish _you._"

Lureen slapped him, hard across the face.

L.D. stood there shocked for a moment, then his face reddened with anger. He reached out and seized her arm, yanking it forward. "You cain't lay a hand on me, little girl," he growled.

Jack was across the floor before he was aware his feet were moving. He grabbed L.D. and jerked him back. "Take your damned hands offa her," he growled, dragging him towards the door. "You heard the lady. Now get out!" he said, opening the door and shoving L.D. through. He didn't wait for a response, just slammed the door behind him. He stood there for a moment until he heard L.D.'s car start up and pull out of the driveway.

He turned. Lureen was standing there shaking, her eyes wide. Jack felt sick to his stomach. The adrenaline rush was leaving him, his muscles felt like limp noodles. He frowned, his memory dredging up a tidbit from the confrontation. "Did he…" He scratched the back of his head. "Did he _actually_ say 'Homo on the Range?'"

Lureen stared at him. "I b'lieve he did," she said. She put a hand to her mouth, a high-pitched hysterical giggle escaping before she could bite it back. She barked out a few ragged laughs before the corners of her mouth turned down and her chest heaved with the force of her sobs.

Jack caught her before she could fall down and held her shaking form tight against him as you might splint a broken limb, although in truth he felt just as broken. His vow not to break down stood the test, but his whole form trembled with the effort even while silent tears ran down his cheeks. Lureen sobbed and sobbed, the raw wails of one cut off from the world. _Oh, Bobby, my good, strong boy. Look what you done to your mamma. Look what you done to me. How'd it come to this? You'll never be the man you coulda been now._

Jack felt cold and hollow all through his center and she was warm, so warm, and her lips when they found his were soft and insistent and he hadn't the strength except to lift her up and carry her off, and her hands were on him and it was them that had made Bobby and this was what had done it and he was still so cold even with her skin on his and he kept waiting, waiting and listening for it, waiting to hear that voice that would make him stop.

But Ennis had nothing to say.

* * *

Afterwards, Jack sat on the edge of Lureen's bed with his head in his hands. She was lying behind him and she hadn't moved in awhile, but he knew she wasn't asleep.

"I'm sorry," she whispered.

"Ain't your fault."

"I shouldn'ta…I jus' needed…" She sighed. "I don't know."

Jack shut his eyes. He kept replaying it over and over again and he wished he could turn it off. He kept hearing her voice, whispering in his ear as he moved inside her, searching for something he couldn't even name, _Does it feel like this with him? Is he soft like me? Does it feel this good with him?_ He hadn't said it then and he wouldn't say it now, that it felt _better_ with him, so much better, and nothing could ever feel as good as Ennis, who he no longer deserved.

"God, Lureen," he muttered. "What'd we do?"

She said nothing for a moment. "Well, I bet that felt different, didn't it?" she said, a slight bitter edge coming to her voice.

Jack choked down a sob. _Whyn't you stop me, Ennis? Why couldn't I stop myself? How'm I gonna look you in the eye again?_ "I didn't want this," he said.

"Don't beat yourself up," she said. "We were emotional, Jack. My God, our son's dead. And you findin' out what daddy done…" A deep, rattling sigh. "You jus' seemed so strong tonight, like nothin' could touch you. I guess I jus' wanted to touch that, 'n maybe some would rub off on me."

He snorted. "That strength you saw? Wasn't me. It was him. It's him makes me strong. And now I betrayed him. I don't know how I let myself…" He let his chin sag down to his chest. "I was thinkin' 'bout Bobby. He was ours, yours 'n mine, and maybe that's…maybe I was tryin' to tell him I'm sorry." He shook his head. "That don't make no sense."

"Ennis will understand."

"I don't know."

He felt her hand touch his arm, tentatively. "Get some sleep. You c'n think on it in the morning." She hesitated. "You c'n sleep here, if you want. I promise I'll be good. Just for the company."

He stood up and gathered his discarded clothes. The buttons on his shirt were ripped off. _Great._ "I'll go to the guest room."

"Okay."

Jack left the room and shuffled down the hall to the guest room, collapsing naked into the bed. He felt beaten and wrung-out. He thought of Ennis again, sitting in their home, lying in their bed, probably still waiting for a call from him. He sure as hell couldn't call him _now._ _Christ, Ennis, I'm so fuckin' sorry. It wasn't about her, I swear it wasn't. I don't know how it happened. It was like there was too much and we had to get it out somehow. That probably sounds stupid to you. God, I love you so fuckin' much, how'm I gonna tell you and stand to see the look on your face? But I cain't stand not to, I cain't keep this inside and pretend it never happened._

He buried his face in his pillow and did what he'd only thought folks did in books: he cried himself to sleep.

* * *

They drank coffee across the table from one another in Lureen's kitchen. Surprisingly, it didn't feel awkward. It had happened, it had been some kind of post-funeral post-confrontation catharsis, it was in the past.

She sighed. "I think it's about time for me t'leave Childress," she said.

"Yeah?"

"Ain't nothin' for me here now. Bobby's gone, and I could go a long time without seein' Daddy again, after what he done."

"Where would you go?"

"You know, I always wanted to live in Georgia. I got a cousin lives in Savannah, and she says it's real nice. Maybe I could get a job there, try'n meet somebody new. Y'never know."

Jack made a decision. "Then do it. Take the money we set by for Bobby's college."

She frowned. "I couldn't do that. You oughta have that money back. Put it into your ranch."

He shook his head. "I want you to have it. Go someplace new. Forget all the shit that's gone down here. This place's gone bad for both of us. I got a home to go to. Least I c'n do is help you find one."

She smiled. "That's…that's real nice 'o you, Jack. Thank you." He nodded, staring down into his coffee cup. "I hate to see you so downhearted," she murmured. "Is it…last night?"

"I cain't believe I done that," Jack said. "I jus'…I'm so fuckin' scared 'o losin' him I'm about to throw up."

Lureen reached across the table and took his hand. "D'you love your man?" He nodded. "And does he love you?" He nodded again. "Then you'll work it out. You'll see. You boys gone through too much shit together to let it go bad on account of this." She sighed. "C'mon, we got one last chore, then you can get on back t'him."

They spent the afternoon going through Bobby's room. It was difficult. Jack saw the detritus of his son's life, a life he hadn't known as well as he would have liked to. Report cards, and school papers, and his trumpet, and photos of parties with friends and barbecues and family gatherings. It all felt like someone else's child, someone else's family.

In the end, he chose a few things to take with him as mementos. One of Bobby's shooting trophies. A few pictures, including one of himself and Bobby at the rodeo. His son's school football helmet. "I'll box these things up and send them along," Lureen said. "So's you don't have to take 'em on the plane home." Jack nodded, numbly watching her box up some of his clothes to take to Goodwill. He had no idea how she could do this so soon, but then again Lureen had always been the pragmatic sort. It was over now, and it was time to pick up the pieces and move on with things. She would mourn in her own way…as would he.

* * *

Jack stood on the airport concourse, staring at the pay phone. _I have to call him. I have to call him._ This time, he had no counter-argument.

He picked it up and had the operator charge the call to his credit card. He stood tucked into the phone kiosk listening to the phone ring all the way in Vermont, cold sweat standing out on his brow.

"Hello?" Ennis's voice felt like a warm hand cradling his heart.

"Ennis, it's me."

"Jack." He heard a slight whoosh of breath, and the relief in his voice. "Thank God you're okay, I been…"

"I'm sorry I ain't called you. It's just been crazy here. But I'm on my way home now, I'm at the airport."

He heard Ennis sigh in relief again. "You're at the airport?" he repeated, probably for Lizzie's benefit. Like as not she was sitting right there next to him. "Good, I'm real glad t'hear that." Ennis hesitated. "How are you, bud? Did everything go okay?"

_Sure. I buried my son, found out what a prick L.D. truly is, and fucked Lureen. How are you?_ "It was pretty damn awful, bud. But I don't wanna get into it now…"

"Y'okay, you tell me all about it when you get back."

"I'm just too tired to talk much."

"Yeah, I bet you're beat t'hell."

"But I do have some news…some things I found out while I was here. Things you'll be interested t'hear."

"News? What kinda…"

"We'll talk about it later."

"Yeah, it'll keep. You jus' get back's fast as you can."

Jack fingered the phone cord. "I'm sorry, Ennis," he said. "I shoulda let you come with me. I missed you somethin' awful."

"Me too, darlin'."

"I'm glad t'be comin' home now."

"Yeah."

"But it might be real late, you oughta go on to bed…"

"You kiddin'? I ain't goin' t'bed. No, I'll be waitin' when you get back, okay?"

"Okay," Jack said, sighing. The thought of driving up and seeing Ennis waiting there on the porch drew him like a magnet, yearning towards Vermont and home. "Ennis, I…I jus' need t'say that…I love you. You know that, don't you?"

"I know," Ennis said, quietly.

"I just cain't wait to be back home again. I don't feel like more'n half a man, and that's the truth."

He heard Ennis sigh. "You come on home, baby," he said, in a low, private voice. Jack shuddered to hear Ennis say that seldom-used term of endearment, the one that damn near made Jack swoon every time he heard it. The receiver clicked off as Ennis hung up.

Jack shouldered his bag again and headed up the concourse towards his gate and the plane that would carry him home to Ennis, and to all the things that he'd have to tell…and all the things he might have to conceal.


	16. Chapter 15

**A/N:**_ A point of clarification: Lureen had a hysterectomy two years ago. I REALLY wanted to get this into part 14 because I just knew that would be a point of discussion, but there just wasn't an appropriate place for it. It didn't fit into any of their conversations. So I'll just tell you now so you don't have to speculate about a love-child. That's a little too soapy for me._

_

* * *

_

Ennis picked up Jack's bag and followed him into the house. He was sniffling and he had a funny lost look about him, like he didn't quite know where he was. He looked around. "Is Lizzie still up?" he asked.

"No," Ennis said. "You wanna go say hi? I'm sure she wouldn't mind none. She's been anxious t'see you."

Jack sighed and shook his head. "No. Let her sleep. I'll see her in the morning."

Ennis slid an arm around his waist. "C'mon, rodeo. You 'bout to drop." He led him into the bedroom.

"I wanna shower," Jack mumbled. "I'm all grimy." He started off towards the bathroom. Ennis caught his hand and pulled him back. Jack smiled. "What you want, now?"

Ennis put his arms around him. "Jus' t'have a good look at my man here, home safe." He kissed him gently, then rested his forehead against Jack's. "I was worried, y'know. And then when you didn't call..."

"I'm sorry, I truly am," Jack said, his hand on Ennis's neck. "But things were happenin' and I…I jus' couldn't think about it. I knew you'd understand."

Ennis nodded. "I know." He released him. "You git now. You are a mite rank, at that," he said with a smirk. Jack gave him a shove, then headed into the bathroom.

Ennis heard the water start up as he started to unpack Jack's bag. He tossed the clothes into the hamper until he came to one of Jack's dress shirts that had to go into the dry cleaning. He was about to put it aside when he saw that a button was missing. _Damn, Jack, los' a button...wait, two buttons...three buttons?_ Ennis held the shirt up, his mind wiping itself clean as he saw that the shirt was missing six or seven buttons. The threads that had held them on were ragged and frayed. Only one way that happened to a shirt, and that was for it to be ripped off by someone who wanted pretty badly to get to what was underneath.

The sound of Jack's shower faded to white noise.

By the time Jack emerged, Ennis had put everything away and gotten into bed. "Feel better?" he asked.

Jack sighed. "Almos' human." He came around to his side of the bed and dropped his towel, climbing in naked. Ennis held out one arm and Jack sighed deeply as he came against Ennis's chest, tucking his head into his shoulder. "Feel good now," he said.

"You wanna tell me this news, then?"

"Well...Bobby didn't kill himself on account 'o me bein' queer."

Ennis frowned. "No?"

"You ain't gonna believe this. L.D. made all that up jus' to get at me. He showed Lureen a phony suicide note what he'd wrote himself."

Ennis shut his eyes, marveling at the depths some folk would sink to. "That unbelievable son of a bitch."

"Lureen surely gave him what for. Slapped his face, threw him outta the house. I mighta helped her with that last bit." Jack turned his head and kissed Ennis's neck, resettling himself closer, his arm curled around Ennis's side.

"I'm glad you found out the truth," Ennis said. "If he'd really done what he done 'cause of…you know, 'cause of us...that mighta ate at you for a long time. That kinda guilt works like a cancer. We mighta gotten sick with it." _Anything else happen in Texas that might cause us trouble, Jack? There's other kinds 'o cancers than the guilty kinds. Anything else liable t'make us sick? If we catch it early enough, mayhap we c'n cut it out 'afore it spreads. That is…if you see fit t'tell me it's even there._

"But God, Ennis...he killed himself 'cause some girl wouldn't have him," Jack said, his voice trembling. "The boy had his whole life ahead…couldn't he've seen past it? It's just so _stupid._"

"Couldn'ta been stupid t'him," Ennis murmured, stroking Jack's hair. "Sometimes boys get t'dreamin', and...well, they do things don't make no sense." He pressed his lips to Jack's forehead. "I'm so sorry, Jack. I wish I could make it okay for you."

Jack raised his head. "You are." He leaned forward and kissed him. "Ennis," he whispered, pulling him closer. "I need you bad, cowboy," he breathed. "Come make me forget it."

Ennis didn't respond at first. He wasn't sure he could keep it up. But Jack's lips were soft, coaxing his own into response, Jack's tongue easing his lips open, and he'd been sleeping alone three nights running...he seized Jack and dove into his mouth, pushing him over to his back. Jack's hand slid into his pajamas and gripped him.

Needing to get it done, needing to stake his claim anew, Ennis turned Jack around on his side so they were back to front. He yanked his pajamas down and held Jack tight to his chest, reaching between them with his other hand to guide himself. Jack groaned as Ennis pushed into him, one arm arching back around them to hold Ennis's hips tight against his own.

Ennis shut his eyes. _Was it like this with her? Could she take you like this, hold you like this? Did she feel as good as this?_

He slid his hand down and wrapped his fingers around Jack, stroking him in time with his quick, shallow thrusts. Jack's neck was arched, his head tucked back into Ennis's shoulder, small whines of urgency coming from his throat. He sucked in a breath and spilled over Ennis's hand, his cry of release escaping from behind his clenched teeth. Ennis grabbed his hip and thrust once, twice, and them came into him in silence.

Jack sighed, shuddering. Ennis pulled out and flopped onto his back, his chest heaving. Jack flipped over and burrowed close again. Ennis wrapped both arms around him, feeling him flinch at the ferocity of the embrace, and trapped him there. He kept Jack tight against him and didn't ease up, not even after they were both asleep.

* * *

Ennis knocked on Lizzie's door. "Lizzie? Ain't you want no breakfast?"

"Come in, Ennis."

He pushed the door open to find her packing her bag. "Well...what's all this, now?"

She smiled at him, a little sadly. "I'm leaving. Going back to the city."

Ennis came in and stood by her bed, frowning. "Now, why'd you wanna go'n do a silly thing like that?"

She sighed. "I can't stay up here forever, Ennis. I can't keep hiding away and pretending I'm Lizzie the Ranch Gal. I might start to think this could be my life, and if I stay too much longer it'll be too damned hard to leave. It's hard enough as it is. I've got to get back to _my_ life. I have a job I've been neglecting, and a husband I've barely spoken to since I've been here." She hesitated, then looked up at him. "I wish this _could_ be my life. I wish this was my world, but it's yours. Jack's just been through an awful tragedy, and you guys need some peace and some time alone to get through it. I only stayed this long so you wouldn't be here by yourself while he was gone."

"You're right about needin' time alone...in fact, I was comin' in here to tell you that I'm takin' Jack up to our cabin by the border for a few days. He needs to rest himself some. But I meant to say you ought t'stay, and do your writin', and that Marianne'd see t'you, and..." He sagged, sorrow at the thought of Lizzie leaving pushing his shoulders down. "So you go ahead 'n stay if you want to."

She smiled up at him, blinking, then all at once she came around the bed and hugged him, her arms around his waist. After a startled moment, Ennis hugged her back. "I do want to," she said, muffled against his shirt. "But I can't. I have to go back to reality sometime. Better sooner than later."

"But...how're you gonna..."

"Dr. Llewellyn said he'd drive me to the airport. I've got a flight this afternoon." She swiped at her eyes and took a deep breath. "How's Jack? Is he okay?"

Ennis sighed. "He's awful tired. But he ain't gotta feel guilty 'bout Bobby, at least." He filled her in on Jack's news about Bobby's suicide.

Liz sat down. "Oh, thank God," she said. "I mean...it's still terrible, and everything, but..."

"I know what you mean," Ennis said.

"I can't believe L.D. could be so…so evil!"

"You'n me both. I'd like to get my hands on that man, and no mistake. But it's all over'n done with now, and it sounds like Lureen's well shut of him now, too."

"And things were okay with Lureen? She and Jack didn't have any trouble?"

_Keep yer fuckin' trap shut, Del Mar. She don't need t'know._ "I guess so. Seems she's fixing t'move to Georgia, or some such."

Liz nodded. "Is he in the kitchen?"

"He's still sleepin'. I didn't want to disturb him none. But he'll want t'say goodbye." Ennis felt suddenly forlorn. "'O course, we'll neither of us _want_ t'say goodbye."

Liz became very interested in her suitcase, keeping her eyes on it. "Neither will I." She swiped at her eyes. "Peter's coming to pick me up at noon."

"I wanna be on the road around two. It's about a three hour drive up to the cabin."

"Okay."

They stood there looking at each other. "Well...you come have somethin' t'eat, now. Ain't gonna get naught but peanuts on the plane."

She nodded, a forced smile on her face. Ennis left her room and shut the door behind him, morose at the thought of it being empty again.

Jack was stretching and yawning when he came back into their bedroom. "What timezit?" he groaned.

"Bit past ten." He sat on the bed and kicked his feet up, his back against the headboard. Jack slid over and leaned into his side. "You wanna tell me 'bout Texas, then?"

He felt Jack nod. Ennis rested his arm around Jack's shoulders and listened as he told him all about the visitation, and meeting Bobby's friends, and then the funeral...Jack broke into tears describing it and had to stop for a moment. Ennis held him while he cried, and gave him his hanky to blow his nose, and listened again as he continued. L.D.'s deception, and the confrontation he'd had with him, and going through Bobby's things. Ennis could hear that Jack was proud of himself for having told L.D. off, and called him out on what he'd done.

He saw the hole. He knew where the thing Jack wasn't telling him about fit into the story. He could _see_ it. Jack and Lureen throwing L.D. out of the house, a united front against him, devastated, emotional, realizing that their child was really and truly in the ground and gone from the earth. It made some kinda sense. Not _good_ sense, more like the kinda sense that made him want to pound someone's face in, but sense all the same. He shut his eyes, glad that Jack couldn't see his face, as his brain insisted on showing him an image of Jack in bed with her, on top of her, her legs wrapped around him. He'd given Jack a chance to say it, and he hadn't. That was to be dealt with later. Now, Jack had to get all this out. "I took a coupla trophies, and his football helmet. Some pictures. She's gonna send 'em along," Jack said, sounding wrung out again. He was resting his head against Ennis's stomach by now. "Maybe I c'n build some kinda case for 'em." Jack picked up Ennis's hand where it lay on the mattress and held it up, lacing their fingers together. "I wished you were there with me, except...in a way, you were. I'd hear your voice sometimes, it seemed."

Ennis had to bite his lip to keep quiet. _Then why the hell didn't I tell you NOT to fuck your ex-wife?_

Jack fell asleep again after his tale was told, but Ennis couldn't let him be for very long. "Get up, rodeo. We gotta pack."

"Pack?" Jack said, rubbing his eyes. "Where we goin'? I jus' got back!"

"I'm taking you up t'the cabin for a spell," Ennis said, pulling out their suitcases. "You need some quiet 'n rest."

Jack flopped back. "Oh, hell yes. That there's a mighty fine plan." He reached out and snagged Ennis's finger. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"For takin' care 'o me."

"Well, who else is gonna do it, I'd like t'know." Ennis was filling the suitcases. Underwear, jeans, shirts...he stopped, remembering the other thing Jack needed to know. "Oh, Lizzie's leavin'."

Jack frowned, his head coming up. "Leavin'? Where's she goin'?"

"Back home. Pete's takin' her to the airport. He's comin' for her at noon."

Jack sighed. "Well, damn. Y'know, I almos' forgot that she don't live here."

"I know what y'mean."

"I'm gonna be sorry as hell t'see her go. But I guess it had t'happen sooner or later." He got out of bed and walked around to his dresser for drawers and jeans. Ennis saw his own fingermarks outlined in red on Jack's bare hip, and felt a grim kind of satisfaction. "I'm gonna go talk t'her before she leaves."

"I'll jus' finish up the packin', then."

Jack pulled on a shirt, ducked in and kissed Ennis's cheek, and left the room. Ennis looked after him for a moment. A violent shudder rippled over him, and he barely made it into the bathroom in time before his breakfast came up.

* * *

"I hear you're leavin' us."

Liz turned from her desk. Jack was in the doorway. "Oh. Yes, I am." She stood up and went to him. "Jack, I am so sorry about Bobby. I never got the chance to say so." She hugged him tightly.

"Thanks, swee'pea. It's hard, but I gotta try'n get on with my life." He hugged her back for a moment, then stepped away. "Packin' up your writin', I see."

She put her legal pads into her briefcase. "Yeah. I've got a lot of notes here. I hope they still make sense when I..." She frowned. "Jack, what's wrong?"

His head jerked up, his eyes wide. "Nothin'."

She peered at him. "Something's wrong." She watched as Jack started to deny it again, then he put one hand over his eyes.

"Oh, God, Lizzie...I fucked up."

Liz went past him and shut the door, then pushed him into the office chair, pulling her desk chair close. "What? What happened?" He looked up at her with miserable, scared eyes and she knew. "Oh, Jack. You didn't."

"I didn't mean to! It was...we threw L.D. outta that house and I was so mad, and she was just so crushed, and then we were both cryin' and..." He scrubbed both hands over his face. "God, what'd I do?"

Liz reached out and rubbed his shoulder. "It could've happened to anyone. People get stupid when they're really emotional."

"I cain't lose him, Lizzie."

"You won't. Did you tell him?"

"No. I don't know what I'm doin'." He sniffed. "I don't know if I should."

"I think you need to."

"I'm afraid to."

"But if he finds out anyway, and you didn't..."

"How can he possibly find out?"

"Trust me, he can. There's always a way."

Jack shook his head, kneading his hands together. "Dammit, Lizzie. Without him I got nothin', I ain't nothin', and if he..."

"Shhh," she said, stroking his hair like a child. "Ennis loves you. He'll understand."

"I ain't so sure 'bout that."

"He isn't going to throw all this away, all you've built and worked for, over this. I mean, it isn't like you picked up some girl...or some guy...in a bar for kicks. It's Lureen, and your only child just died, and...well, I think it's understandable, but that's just me."

Jack's head was lowered. She couldn't see his face. "He said the word," he whispered.

"What?"

"The word. The word he don't use. Right before I left." Jack took a deep breath and blew it out. "He wanted t'come with, and I said no. I asked him why he should, and he said..." He had to stop for a moment. "He said he oughta come because he's my husband and he oughta be there with me." He raised his head and met Liz's eyes. "He finally said that, what I been wantin' t'hear for years, and I was in such a state I c'd barely appreciate it. And _then_ I turned right 'round 'n cheated on him."

Liz didn't know what to say. She didn't know the right advice, the right course. She grasped Jack's shaking hands. "I don't know how to help you, Jack," she said, quietly. "I just know that what you and Ennis have is special, and it's strong, and it's withstood so much already. I just can't believe that this could break it."

He sighed deeply, nodding. "I sure hope you're right." He sat back and wiped his eyes, putting the topic behind him. "Well...you jus' better come back 'n visit us," he said, smiling.

Liz nodded. "Try and keep me away."

"I sure am gonna miss you, Lizzie."

"Me too, Jack." She sighed. "I'll miss you somethin' fierce." It was the closest she could ever allow herself to come.

* * *

Peter was there at noon, right on schedule. Liz lingered on the porch, hugging Ennis and then Jack and then Ennis again. Amidst many promises to call, and visit, she tore herself away from the porch and climbed into Peter's car. She watched out the window, waving at the spare figures standing by the stairs waving back, until they were over the ridge and out of sight.

She faced forward. "Thanks for the ride, Peter."

"My pleasure. Though I'm sorry that it's to take you away from us."

"I'm sure I'll be back for visits."

He glanced at her. "Once you're back in the city it'll feel like home again."

"I don't know," Liz said. She tried to hold it back, but the lump rose in her throat in spite of her best efforts. She held her hand to her mouth. "I don't know if anyplace feels like home to me anymore...except here." She sat quietly for a moment as Peter pulled onto the highway, pointing his practical Toyota towards Burlington. She watched him as he drove, that Ichabod Crane profile with the surprisingly sharp gray eyes. "You ever been married, Peter?"

"I'm a widower."

Liz flushed with embarrassment. "Oh, I'm sorry."

"It's all right, you didn't know."

"When…how did she…"

"She died four years ago. She had a very severe form of leukemia. It killed her in two years." He hesitated. "I diagnosed her, actually. It was probably the worst day of my life. Worse even than the day she died, because we'd made our peace by then, and said our goodbyes. But that first day…we weren't prepared." He pulled himself out of his reverie. "I'm sorry, that's really a downer."

"Oh, don't apologize."

A long pause. "You know, that might be why I came down on you so hard about bothering Ennis and Jack. I lost the person I loved, so I just want everybody to be able to keep theirs close." He glanced at her. "You, uh…having any luck with that issue we discussed?"

Liz snorted. "Moot point now, isn't it?"

"Oh, I don't know. They say absence makes the heart grow fonder."

"You must think I'm deeply silly," she said, sighing. "Falling for a man who's so profoundly unavailable in so many ways."

Peter chuckled. "Well, if you are, you've got plenty of company."

Liz raised an eyebrow. "I do?"

"Let's just say you wouldn't be the first woman in town who had palpitations over our Jack, or over Ennis, for that matter. Although I have to admit, you do distinguish yourself in that you never thought you could seduce him away, or tried."

"Women have tried?"

Peter chuckled. "I'm not surprised they didn't tell you."

"Tell me what?"

"Oh, about the time Dottie Farnsworth had a little too much wine at the Rotary dinner and literally draped herself across Jack's lap. I don't know what she whispered in his ear but he turned damned near purple. Or about how Linsey Gardiner, she's one of the leaders in the 4-H, calls the ranch about once a month asking Jack if he'll come demonstrate his husbandry techniques, strongly implying that he might use her for practice if he's so inclined." By this time Liz was laughing uproariously. Peter grinned. "Ask Ennis how many free beers he's gotten out at the Fishery from Alice Doctorow. He hasn't paid for drafts in years. Ask Jack how many senior girls out at the high school apply to work at the ranch for their FFA work-coop every year."

"Don't these women get it?" Liz asked, calming herself down.

"They get it. They just don't get it _really._ They probably think that if either of them got a taste of a real woman, them for instance, they'd never look back." He sighed. "I guess what they don't get is that it isn't just about the sex."

Liz was looking out the window again. "Sex can't make a relationship, but it sure can break one."

* * *

Jack had been sitting motionless in a deck chair for half an hour, staring out at the river. He was no closer to a decision than he had been when he'd sat down, determined to just make up his mind, already.

He heard Ennis come out the back door. He didn't look around. Ennis's footsteps stopped even with his chair, and he saw the tall shadow on the deck planks next to his own. "Everthin's packed," Ennis said.

"Good."

"Well...'cept for this."

He tossed a shirt into Jack's lap. Puzzled for a moment, Jack picked up the dress shirt, light blue...with six or seven buttons missing. His whole body went numb. It was the shirt he'd worn to the funeral, the shirt Lureen had torn off of him. Ennis had..._you fuckin' moron. He unpacked your bag for you 'cause you were too wrecked. He found this shirt. And he ain't no dummy._

His hands clenched in the shirt. He'd have ripped it to shreds if he'd had the energy. Slowly, he raised his eyes to Ennis's face. He was just standing there, his gaze fixed out into the middle distance, his hands in his pockets. Jack saw his chest rise and fall as he let a silent sigh escape him. "You coulda told me," he said, quietly.

Jack's jaw seemed to be glued shut. Ennis walked forward to the railing and put his hands on it, his hips canting to one side as he leaned his weight on it. His head dropped a little, and Jack thought that if Ennis were to turn around, hand him a knife and ask him to plunge it into his own heart, Jack's only comment would be to ask if he didn't maybe have a duller knife.

He waited. He waited for what felt like forever. Ennis just stood there. Jack's hands were still bunched up in the goddamned shirt. He looked down at it, seeing not this shirt but the image of another shirt. Two shirts.

In his childhood closet back in Lightning Flat, secreted in a hollow space in the closet, was a hangar bearing two shirts. One of his own, and one of Ennis's. The shirts they'd worn that long-ago summer when all this had begun, shirts stained with the blood of a scuffle borne of too many emotions welling up into hearts ill-prepared to contain them. Ennis's shirt was tucked inside his own, kept safe there since that summer, when Jack had feared that all he'd ever have of Ennis was that shirt and those memories, tucked inside him and sacred.

But now he had all of Ennis. He'd meant to go back and collect those shirts, time and again, while Ennis was visiting the girls in Riverton. He'd been in that house, in that room, even in that closet, and he hadn't taken them. It had just seemed wrong, and he wasn't sure why. He liked the idea of those shirts hanging there, him and Ennis layered together in a remote house in Wyoming, out there in the world where no one would know what it meant, and no one would look askance. It was that shout from the housetops he couldn't allow himself to voice: _this is us, this is what we are, this is how we feel, this is why we live._ A statement of truth, his only truth, that stayed there untouched and inviolate.

The story of his life in shirts. Those shirts, and now this shirt. The ones that told the tale of the birth of their relationship, and this one that might spell its death.

Ennis turned around. His face was unreadable, a granite slab with glittering eye-points squinted against the afternoon sun. "Were you ever gonna tell me?" he said.

Jack wished he could find it in himself to lie, but the truth was all he had left. "I hadn't made up m'mind," he said, sighing.

Ennis nodded. "I see."

"Ennis, listen, I..."

He held up a hand, cutting him off. "I don't wanna talk about it." He walked back towards the house. Jack sat miserably clutching the shirt. Ennis paused by his chair. "C'mon. I wanna get t'the cabin 'afore dark."

Jack got up, intending to follow him…but there was something to be taken care of first. He walked forward to the firepit cut into the deck planks and tossed the shirt in. He withdrew a kitchen match from the holder, lit it, and set the thing on fire. He stood and watched it burn, the acrid smoke drifting into his eyes, until it was nothing but ashes and a few button fragments. He picked up a half-drunk bottle of beer from the deck and doused it, then drew his arm back and threw the bottle as hard as he could. It sailed up in an arch, over the porch and the yard, and landed somewhere beyond his sight.

Ennis was putting their bags in the back of Jack's truck, which was still sitting in the dooryard where he'd left it the night before.

Jack climbed into the passenger seat. Ennis was just sitting there behind the wheel, not starting the truck, not doing anything.

Jack could only think of one thing to say. "Ennis, I lo…" was as far as he got.

"Jack, if you tell me you love me, I'm gonna shove your ass outta this truck and leave you in the dirt." He looked at him. "Words come easy, bud. Anyone can say 'em. Don't make 'em true. Livin' them words is the hard part. Too hard for you, I guess." He turned the key in the ignition and started up the truck.


	17. Chapter 16

_**May, 1975**_

_"Well, see you next month, then."_

_Ennis heard the desolation in his voice. He watched Jack turn away and head back to his truck, the swagger gone from his stride, the sparkle gone from his eyes._

_You did that, he thought._

_Jack got back in his truck._

_Say something. Do something. Anything. You wanna puke your guts out again? You wanna have a breakdown in front 'o the girls?_

_There was a war being fought inside Ennis's head. One side wanted to let Jack go. Preserve the status quo. He'd see him again in a month. They'd spend another week out in the woods, not fishing. They'd drink, they'd talk, they'd have sex, and Ennis would try to wring every moment dry. He'd try and commit every moment to memory, because one week of life had to last him months, long dreary months until the next not-fishing trip. Let him go back to Texas. I'll stay here where it's safe, and it's known, and no one knows what's in my heart, and I can live in this miserable house and see the girls once a fuckin' month and try not to notice the pity on Alma's face and swear that tonight, just for one night, I won't dream about him, please let me not dream about him just this once, I'm beggin' you._

_The other side wanted him to ask Jack to stay. Just ask him to stay until you drop the girls off. Then talk to him, for cryin' out loud. Ask him what he was hoping for. You never knew what was next, but he always did. You never had the guts to take another step, but he always did. Look at him, you chickenshit. He drove all the way up here. On your say-so he wouldn't never go back. He's ready to throw it all away jus' t'be with you. What're you ready to do for him? Ain't you even ready to have one lousy conversation? What kinda man are you, anyway?_

_You've always let him feel enough for two, so's you don't have to. When you gonna step up and lift your share?_

_Jack was starting his truck. He glanced up at Ennis again, trying to smile, trying to make it all right for him. Sure, it's fine that I just drove sixteen hours straight because I thought you might be free now. I don't mind turning around and going straight back. Why don't you kick me in the balls while you're at it?_

That man is your last chance,_ said a voice. It was very clear, so much so that Ennis almost turned around to see who'd spoken. _Your last chance to be happy. Maybe the only chance you ever had.

_He saw Jack yank his gearshift lever down, then start to turn and look over his shoulder. He watched him from under the brim of his hat, hands shoved into his pockets. Any second Jack would take his foot off the brake and hit the gas, and then he'd be nothing but a dust trail hanging over the road. Just wait another second, and you won't have to choose anymore. You won't have to fight yourself anymore. He'll be gone, just like before, just like always, and you'll get off easy again._

_"Jack, wait!" he heard someone shout. Jack stopped and turned back, and Ennis realized that he'd said that himself. Jack frowned._

_"What?"_

Well, get over there, you dumbass._ Ennis yanked his feet from where they were busily taking root and walked over to the truck. He leaned on the open window, checking over his shoulder to make sure the girls couldn't see from where they were. "Just hold on," he said._

_"Hold on for what, Ennis? For the Rapture?"_

_"Naw, just…" He harrumphed. "Can y'wait for a bit?" Jack blinked. "Jus' till I take the girls home? Coupla hours?"_

_Jack put the truck back in neutral. "You want me t'wait?"_

_Ennis shrugged. "If you're able."_

_"Ennis…does it fuckin' look like I got anywhere else t'go?"_

_"Jus'…wait here. Then when I get back, well…we c'n talk."_

_He saw cautious optimism coming into Jack's face. "Y'mean it?"_

_Ennis lowered his eyes, and slowly put his hand over Jack's where it rested on the open window. "I mean…oh, hell, I dunno what I mean. I jus' know that, uh…" He shifted and cut his eyes away. "I let you outta my sight once 'afore, and y'know how I regretted it. I jus' got a feelin' if I do it again, I'd regret it twice over." He forced himself to raise his eyes and meet Jack's. They were wide and full of careful hope._

_"Well…okay, Ennis. I'll wait if you want me to. I been waitin' this long, a few more hours ain't gonna hurt me none." Ennis moved back so Jack could get out of the truck._

_"Door's open," Ennis said. Jack nodded and started to move past him to the house, but Ennis grasped his arm. He glanced around…the girls were in the truck, its mirrors were out of eye-line, there were no cars anywhere about. He drew Jack close and kissed him, quickly but decisively. "Be back soon's I can."_

_Jack smiled. "I'll be here."_

_Ennis squeezed his arm, then headed back to his truck and climbed in. "Let's go, girls," he said, smiling._

_He saw Jack go into the house as he pulled onto the road, and warmth filled him at the novel idea that when he came home later, he'd be coming home to Jack. That was a feeling he thought he might be able to get used to._

_

* * *

_

The drive north to the cabin was long, silent, and excruciating. Jack sat staring out the window, arms crossed, flogging himself relentlessly. _Why didn't you tell him, you dumb son of a bitch? Because I was afraid he'd be mad. Well, guess what, he found out anyway and now he's more mad than he'd've been if you'd just told him. Where does he get off, anyway? My son's dead, I was emotional, it was Lureen…is it so awful? Well, how would you feel if he slept with Alma?_

The thought made him shudder and sent a sharp skewer of jealousy and hurt through his gut. The thought of Ennis with somebody else…well, it made him want to hit something. It hadn't bothered him when they'd both been married. Hell, it had been necessary. But Ennis was _his_ now.

_Yeah, and he feels the same way about you. Y'think that might be why he's so quiet over there, asshole?_

And so on, and so on, mile after mile, town after town. The cabin was about an hour and a half north of Farmingdale on St. Albans Bay, a little finger of water sticking out from Lake Champlain. It was a pleasant, scenic drive, but Jack barely saw any of it. Usually when he and Ennis made this trip, it was fun. They'd talk and laugh, happy to be getting away from the daily grind to spend some time alone. These country back roads and byways were familiar friends. One of Jack's favorite memories had taken place along one of these roads. They'd been on their way up to the cabin for a whole week to celebrate Ennis's birthday. On the trip north, Ennis had suddenly turned off the two-lane county road onto an old logging road. "I cain't wait," he'd growled, when Jack asked him what the hell he was doing. He'd driven the truck into a thicket of trees and parked, then turned to Jack and grabbed him. They'd done it right there on the front seat.

The odds of that happening on _this_ trip seemed very low.

Going to the cabin always felt like descending into another world. It was secluded, damn near isolated, and after a few days it could start to feel like he and Ennis were the only people in the world. The wide-place-in-the-road town of St. Albans Bay was ten minutes away, the slightly larger town of St. Albans about twenty, so it was hardly the ends of the earth, but when you drove down the long two-track drive down towards the lakeshore and left the high hill country behind, it felt like diving deep into the quiet, green idyll of some kind of fairy story where mythic little creatures ran through the woods and the trees sang you to sleep.

The cabin would be ready for them. They had a caretaker who checked the place over regularly, and Ennis would have called ahead to let the man know they were coming so there'd be wood for the fireplace and loaned horses in the tiny stable they'd built themselves the first year they'd had the place. It was a homey little cabin. Two bedrooms with a great room between. It sat among tall evergreens, but had an unobstructed view down the steep gully behind to the bay and clear across its glass surface to the hills on the peninsula.They'd gotten a tip from a friend in the real estate business that the previous owner had to unload it quickly. IRS problems. They'd been in the market for a cabin but would never have thought to get one as nice as this one, and they'd gotten it for half what it was worth.

Ennis pulled up into the little nook cut into the trees for this purpose, and he and Jack began unloading their clothes and groceries. For one awful moment Jack wondered if Ennis was going to put their bags in two separate rooms, but he didn't. However severe his anger…and he wasn't giving away many clues…it didn't extend to sleeping apart.

Jack was putting the groceries away when Ennis came out of the bedroom carrying his riding gloves. "I'm goin' for a ride," he said, the modifier "alone" conveyed quite effectively by his tone.

Jack nodded. "Okay," he said. "Will you be back for…" But Ennis had already gone.

* * *

Ennis saddled up one of the loaned horses, a chestnut bay, and guided her up the trail that ran behind the cabin…although "trail" was a charitable description. He didn't know where he was going, he just craved the solitude. As always, when things were difficult, some primal urge in his gut just screamed at him to run, run away, stay silent, and find a cave to fester in. He didn't really _want_ to, but right now the urge was too strong for him. He didn't know how to handle this situation and he was afraid of making some kind of awful mistake with it and not being able to take it back.

He followed the trail until it opened out into a small campsite, set high in a meadow with a view of the bay and Lake Champlain beyond that literally made him gasp. How had they never found this place before? It would be a perfect spot to camp for a night. Sometimes he and Jack got nostalgic for huddling in a tent, sleeping outdoors, cooking over a campfire. It put them in mind of Brokeback, and there wasn't nothing quite like having sex under the stars, being naked among the night breezes, letting God get a good long look at what you were doing and daring him to smite you down as a sinner…and then laughing in relief when you remained unsmote. Ennis, atop his horse, looked around and made a note of where he was.

_Have to tell Jack. We c'n bring our campin' gear next time we're up, and we can come out here'n…we c'n…_

He suddenly remembered why he was out riding alone and the thought got lost inside his head, drowned out by other, noisier thoughts. He dismounted and tied his horse to a tree, then walked out across the small meadow until he came to a sharp dropoff to the lakeshore below. It put him in mind of the high meadow at home, a bit. Woodsier, of course.

He sat down heavily on the edge of the dropoff, drawing his knees up. Nothing more to distract himself. No horse to guide, no camping plans to make, no thoughts of home. Just him, and the knowledge of what Jack had done, and the inability to keep himself from feeling just how much it fuckin' hurt.

Ennis let his head fall to his knees and cried, not even bothering to chide himself for being such a little girl, just let himself go unchecked like no man had ever told him that only sissy boys cry…nor beat him because he couldn't help himself.

* * *

When he returned to the cabin, several hours later, Jack was chopping firewood. Ennis put away the horse and walked quietly down the path from the stable to the cabin, hearing the rhythmic swish and chop of the axe. He peered around the corner of the path.

Jack already had a sizable pile of chopped wood. How much wood did he think they needed? But Ennis supposed he needed something to keep himself occupied. He knew the feeling.

Jack had stripped down to his t-shirt, an uneven tree of sweat painting it darker between his shoulder blades. Ennis watched him for a moment. The pull and flex of the muscles in his back, his arms bulging as he swung the axe over his shoulder. The narrow strip of his back that peeked out when he bent to grab another log to split.

Ennis rolled his eyes. _You're s'posed t'be sore at him, not eyeballin' him and gettin' a fuckin' boner in the meantime,_ he chided himself. _For god's sake, get yourself under control. You ain't no randy young buck no more, y'know._

He watched until Jack put down the axe and stacked the cut wood by the back door. He wiped his arm across his brow and then headed back into the cabin, pulling his gloves off. Ennis slipped out from the tree cover and followed him. He eased the door open, quietly, and listened. He could hear the shower running.

Ennis only hesitated a moment before heading for the bedroom, kicking off his shoes.

* * *

Jack stepped under the spray, smelling the bright copper tang of his own sweat. _Think you chopped enough wood, rodeo?_ he heard Ennis say. _If another Ice Age descends, we'll be all set._ It hadn't mattered how much firewood they did or didn't need. It just felt good to chop, to rend the wood into bits and feel the bite of the axe slice the logs stem to stern, to see the pale halves split open and fall apart, exposing their naked flesh-colored centers that had never felt the air before.

He shut his eyes and let the water, as hot as he could stand it, hit the top of his head and sluice down his back. His mind had been pleasantly blank while he worked, but now it was trying to make up for it by assaulting him with thoughts.

He was about 95 sure that Ennis wasn't going to actually leave him. But 95 was a long was from 100, and that little window was more than large enough to admit awful thoughts of one of them having to buy the other one out, splitting up the ranch, somebody moving, saying goodbye or even _not_ saying goodbye, of looking around and wondering who the hell he was without Ennis, and what he had to live for.

_Where's he been all day?_ It was almost dark. Actually, he knew where Ennis was, just not the specific location. He'd gone off somewhere on his own to brood. Jack had done his best to train this tendency towards solitary fugue out of him, but hadn't been totally successful. His first instinct was still to withdraw. Still, they'd come so far that it was disappointing.

Two years previously, Francie had fallen terribly ill with pneumonia, to the point where her doctors actually began to wonder if she'd recover. Alma had insisted that Ennis stay where he was and not try to come to Wyoming, because something might happen while he was in the air and unreachable, so he'd paced around the house for days until his daughter recovered. Jack had been in the office when Ennis got the initial news, and Ennis had come directly from the phone call to tell him, his eyes full of fear and helplessness, and Jack had given him what comfort he could, all the while he was trying to conceal his glee that Ennis had actually come straight to him instead of going into his shell.

He leaned against the side of the shower stall. _Damn, Ennis. I need you right now. We gotta talk about this, you know. I wanna get to the make-up sex. Given how good it is after our usual dust-ups, I can't imagine what it might be like after this._ His mind showed him an image of Ennis, naked in bed, looking up at him with that secret bedroom look, the look that was just for him, that dark glance from underneath short eyelashes that said "see anything you like, rodeo?" _Well, I sure as hell ain't seein' that look nor likely gettin' any in the foreseeable future,_ he thought with resignation. _Might as well._ He grasped himself and let his eyes fall closed, starting up that familiar pull-slide motion.

He was just getting a good rhythm going when the shower curtain was pulled back. He jumped and turned around with a startled squawk. Ennis was standing there, naked. For a split second, his heart leapt for joy that he'd been forgiven already…but then he got a look at his eyes. That twinkle wasn't there, his usual "hey, rodeo" look of easy familiarity. He still looked guarded and careful. No, whatever this was, it wasn't the make-up sex. Ennis glanced down at him. "C'n I help you with that?" he said.

Jack just stared at him. Ennis climbed into the shower stall, easing up behind him, and slipped one arm around him while his other hand held Jack's hip. Jack didn't lean back, as he normally would have done. It just didn't feel like that would have been welcome. So he stood there as Ennis jacked him, but it wasn't the same. Normally Ennis would kiss his neck while he did this, and embrace him with his other arm, and nuzzle into his shoulder. This felt like an obligation. Ennis was just being a considerate partner and taking care of him before he did what he'd come here to do, probably. Jack shut his eyes and pictured more intimate situations, dredging up more erotic memories, but reality was too intrusive.

He shoved Ennis's hand away. "No, that ain't workin'," he mumbled.

"What's your problem?"

He turned. "You wanna fuck me, Ennis? Go right ahead! Don't feel you gotta be nice and get me off first, okay? You wanna bang me senseless? Take it all out on my ass? You earned that right, I reckon. Just do it. But I cain't abide no robotronic handjobs, see? It's supposed to feel _better_ when you do it than when I do it myself!"

Ennis was breathing hard. "Is that so?"

"Yeah!"

"You just want me to fuck you, then?"

"Said so, didn't I?"

"You got it, bud," Ennis snapped, and grabbed him. Jack gasped as Ennis yanked him close, turned them both half around and pushed him roughly up against the side of the shower stall. Jack's hands scrabbled at Ennis's wet shoulders as Ennis half-lifted him, pushing his hips against Jack's, his mouth devouring the flesh of Jack's neck and shoulders.

Jack grabbed him by the hair and yanked his head back so he could get to his mouth. He sealed his lips over Ennis's and all but forced them apart. Ennis's hands were gripping big handfuls of his ass, lifting him up as Jack was always amazed he was able to do, seeing as Jack outweighed him by about fifteen pounds. "Christ, Ennis," he gasped, feeling Ennis's erection sliding between his legs as his own was pressed between their stomachs.

He heard Ennis say his name, but it hardly sounded like a word. More like a growl, a warning sound to others…_Stay away. Mine._ He flipped him around, turning them again to face the back of the stall, and bent him halfway over. Jack barely had time to brace his hands against the wall before Ennis thrust into him, surprising a hoarse cry out of his throat. After that, there wasn't much to do but hang on, try not to inhale shower water while gasping for breath, and try not to slip and fall on the slick floor when his vision swam with arousal.

Eventually they made it to the bedroom for round two, soaking wet and dampening the sheets beneath them while the bed walked steadily away from the wall and their shouts echoed through the cabin, the surrounding woods, and in the ears of their nonexistent neighbors.

Finally, it was over. Jack felt like he had fingermarks and suck marks all over himself, and was glad he didn't have to show his face…or his neck…around the ranch for the next few days. He lay on his back, spent and panting, his hair sticking up at odd angles, and stared at Ennis's back where he sat facing away on the edge of the bed. He saw his own fingernail marks on it.

Ennis stood up and pulled on his drawers and jeans. "Y'know, this don't change nothin'," he finally said.

Jack sighed. "I didn't think it did."

Ennis pulled on a shirt and walked around the bed to the door. He paused and took one look back, then went out to the great room. Jack turned on his side and pushed his face into the pillow so that the dampness from the shower would hide the marks of his tears.

* * *

When Jack woke up the next morning, Ennis was already gone. _Fuck,_ he thought. _Ain't gonna make much progress with the whole reconciliation plan if he ain't never here._ He got up and dressed with a resigned sigh.

After the shower escapade, they'd eaten dinner in silence, then watched the news on the only channel they could get on this TV. Ennis had disappeared somewhere for an hour or so, Jack could only imagine where, and he'd gone to bed before his return. He'd hoped for something, anything, that night, but Ennis had just climbed into bed and gone straight to sleep. Then again, maybe that was for the best. After their earlier adventures, he might be walking funny enough as it was.

Jack hung around the cabin for an hour or so, wondering if Ennis might return, but finally tired of it. _Fuck him,_ he thought, irritated. He dug out the pole and tackle and went fishing off a flat granite outcropping that seemed tailor-made just for this purpose.

When he returned in the late afternoon, his creel bursting with fish, Ennis was there getting the coals ready on the barbecue. Jack frowned. "How'd you know I was bringin' fish back?"

Ennis just stared at him. "Well, the pole and tackle were gone. I didn't think you'd taken 'em along to go square dancin'."

"Oh. Right."

Half an hour later, they were sitting on the porch side by side, eating fish and hash browns, a bucket of beer between them.

"Stubbs told me that Al might be puttin' in his notice soon," Ennis said, breaking a long silence. It was just ranch business, but it was better than nothing.

"Yeah? Why's that?"

"Got himself a girlfriend, wants him to get a 'respectable' job," Ennis said, making sarcastic quotes in the air with his fingers. "So he's applyin' over at the water treatment plant."

"Guess we ain't respectable enough for his lady, then."

"Guess not."

Silence.

"Wonder if Lizzie got home okay," Jack said, taking his turn to broach a topic.

Ennis sniffed. "I'm sure she did."

"Y'think she'll be back t'visit?"

"I imagine so. She's got a whole book to write now. 'O course, she keeps threatenin' t'drag us down t'the city."

Jack snorted. "Yeah, we'd be a big hit at them swank New York cocktail parties in our cowboy boots, smellin' like manure." He smiled at the thought.

Silence.

"You work out everthin' with Alma, 'bout Junior?"

Ennis sighed. "Ain't nothin' t'work out. Junior's a grown woman, she c'n decide for herself. Alma cain't stop her. What's she gonna do, lock her in the basement? I already told her I'd pay for her plane ticket, and to have her things shipped out here."

Jack nodded. "We oughta call that contractor 'bout the bungalow. Might see 'bout finishin' off the basement while he's at it. Waste of space the way it is. Could be nice down there. Put in another bathroom, maybe a rec room, or another bedroom."

"Aw, what do we need all that room for? We got three bedrooms upstairs."

"Y'never know." The question brought another topic to Jack's mind, one that had been occurring to him since Bobby's death. He knew damned well that this was not the time to bring it up, but he couldn't stop himself. "Ennis?" he said, quietly.

Ennis turned his head slightly and cut his eyes to Jack's face. "Yeah?"

"Y'ever think about…well…family?"

Ennis turned back towards the bay. "I got a family. I got two girls."

The fact that Ennis had not included Jack himself among his family was not lost on him, but he didn't let it show. "I mean a family for us. I mean, I know we cain't…the regular way, but I was thinkin' maybe we could be foster dads."

"Foster dads?" Ennis said, his tone implying that this was a dubious plan at best.

"Sure. Lotsa kids in trouble, need a nice place t'get away from bad situations. Ranch'd be just the spot for 'em. Lotsa fresh air…exercise…" He trailed off, sensing Ennis turning to stone a few feet away. "Ennis, you got two daughters. I jus' lost my only child," he said, his voice catching. "And maybe I wasn't much of a dad, but I cain't just forget it, I…" He stopped short. He had no idea where he was going with this.

Ennis sighed. "You woke me last night," he said, quietly. "You were cryin' in your sleep. You were sayin' Bobby's name."

"Really?" Jack didn't remember this.

Ennis nodded. "'Bout broke my heart t'hear it. I wished I could reach inside and pull out that pain so's it wouldn't trouble you no more." He shifted in his seat, harrumphing. "Jack, ain't no state gonna give no foster kids to a couple queer ranchers what cain't even sort themselves out," he said, sharply. Jack said nothing. Ennis got up. "I'm goin' for a walk," he muttered, heading down the steps.

Jack stood. "How we s'posed t'sort it out when you won't stick around long enough t'talk about nothin'?" he asked.

Ennis paused, then turned halfway around. "Jack, I ain't ready t'talk about it."

"I don't give a shit. We are _gonna_ talk about it, whether you like it or not."

"I ain't the one fucked someone else!" Ennis exclaimed. "So the way I see it, I get to say when we talk about it and when we don't."

"You're just gettin' off on makin' me suffer," Jack said. "You know damn well I'm sittin' here twiddlin' my thumbs, waitin' for you t'decide you're ready to hear what I got t'say."

"Yeah, well, don't do the crime if you can't do the time," Ennis said. "I just gotta do things in my own way, Jack. I'm askin' you t'respect that." Without another word, he set off into the purple evening.

Jack sat down hard, blowing air through his teeth, and watched Ennis disappear into the dense woods.

* * *

Ennis didn't come back for several hours. It was full dark by then, and Jack was lying on the great room floor in front of the fire, his head propped on a pillow. Ennis walked in, hesitated, and then joined him. He sat cross-legged to one side, closer to the fireplace so all Jack could see was his back. Jack sat up, but didn't move any nearer.

"Talk," Ennis said.

Jack took a deep breath, wondering if all his rehearsals would go for naught. "Let me try and explain," he began.

"I ain't interested in excuses."

"Who said anything about excuses? Things happen for reasons, and reasons ain't excuses. I ain't askin' t'be excused. I fucked up, and you oughta know why, and what it meant, and what it didn't mean." He took Ennis's silence as a signal to continue. "It wasn't her. Not at all. You know I don't love her. Hell, I _never_ loved her, I always loved you. But he was our _child,_ and that's a connection cain't never be broken. Not even when that child's dead." Jack took a moment. "What L.D. done was so awful neither of us could believe it. Callin' him out on it…I felt like we was Bobby's parents again, maybe for the last time. Maybe for the _first_ time. We was doin' right by him like we hadn't done before." He had to pause and wipe at his eyes again, collecting himself before continuing. "After he was gone, she jus' broke down, and so did I. It was jus' us, and Bobby was really gone. She was the only person feelin' what I was feelin', and I knew what I done to her, and to Bobby, and then…suddenly we were just…" He sighed. "I don't know what came over me. I don't know why it just carried me away. It was like my las' chance t'touch Bobby, through her." He sighed.

Ennis cleared his throat. "What did…what did it feel like?"

Jack frowned. "What d'you mean?"

"Did it feel…good?" His question was almost fearful, and understanding came to Jack in a flash.

"Y'mean, did it feel _better?_ Better than you'n me?" Ennis could only give a curt nod. "Jesus, that what you think? No! 'O course not! Ennis, nothin' ever felt as good t'me as bein' with you, and nothin' ever will." He wasn't sure, but he thought he detected a slight relaxing of Ennis's back, the only part of him he could see. He wanted to reach out and touch him, but the time wasn't right for that yet. "I didn't do this 'cause I'd been missin' female company. I did it 'cause I was wrecked and stupid and I grabbed the only thing I had, the only familiar thing, and that was her. Minute it was over all I wanted was t'take it back, and only reason I didn't tell you right away was 'cause I was so Godalmighty scared 'o losin' you that I couldn't see straight."

Ennis was nodding. "Yeah." He took a deep breath. "Listen, bud. I ain't gonna say much 'bout this now. I don't rightly trust myself to say the right thing. I get that you was in a bad way. Ain't no surprise there, after Bobby. I get that you couldn't share it with nobody but Lureen, that's only right, you both bein' his parents 'n all. Ain't no one else'd really understand how it felt for you. What I cain't get is you givin' her what you said you'd only give me."

Jack nodded. "I know."

"Didn't we make some promises, you 'n me? Didn't we agree to a few things?"

"We did."

Ennis turned then, so Jack could see his face. "You went back on your word t'me, Jack. You 'n me done our share 'o vow-breakin', and I know neither of us is proud of it, but I thought we was done with that when we left our wives." He dropped his eyes. "You been through a lot this past week. I wanna be there t'help you through it. But it's damn hard when all I c'n see is you bein' with her with my ring on your damn finger."

Jack scooted a little closer. "Are we gonna be okay?" he murmured, afraid of the answer.

Ennis met his eyes and held his gaze for a long time. Finally, he sighed and stood up. "I'm goin' t'bed," he said, sounding very tired.

Jack sat in front of the fire for a long time before he finally did the same.

* * *

Ennis was gone again when Jack woke up, but he could hear sounds in the cabin. He jumped out of bed and dressed in a hurry, yanking his boots on over bare feet.

He found Ennis outside, putting bags into the truck. "Oh, good, you're up," Ennis said. "Was gonna wake you."

"Are we leaving?"

Ennis came around the truck to stand before him. "No. _I_ am."

Jack blinked. "You're…you're what?"

"I'm gonna go on over to Plattsburg for a spell."

"You're going to _Plattsburg?_"

"You know Dave Tomlinson's been after me t'come up and take a look at his operation. He says he's got a coupla hands might make good foremen, and we gonna be in the market for a new one 'afore too long. Y'know Stubbs is gettin' too old. I'm gonna stay a few days, maybe a week, help Dave make some changes, get t'know them hands a bit." Ennis looked at the ground, his hands on his hips. "I called Marianne, and she said she'd drive up and get you when you're ready t'go home."

"I don't _want_ to go home, I want to come with you." A shrill, terrified voice had taken up a litany in the back of Jack's brain, a nonstop repeating screech of _he's leaving you he's leaving you he's leaving you he's leaving…_

Ennis took a step closer. "Jack? Look at me. Listen." Jack met Ennis's eyes. "I ain't leavin' you, y'hear? Even if I wanted to, which I don't, I couldn't. I couldn't stand it. Besides, I told you I was in it for good, better or worse, y'might say, and I aim to keep t'that." He looked away, off towards the bay, his jaw working. "I ain't gonna lie. What you done hurt me a lot. More'n I'll ever let y'know, I reckon. But I'll get over it. I ain't got no choice. I tried t'picture havin' a life without you in it and it damn near made me puke. Couldn't even keep the thought in m'mind."

"So…why are you…"

"I need a little time, bud. I spent mos' 'o this time up here thinkin' 'bout it. You know I ain't like you. I cain't feel things 'n just know what they are, and know how t'explain 'em. I ain't smart about that like you are. Hell, half the time, I don't know what the hell I'm feelin' till you let me know. But I figured it a bit. It ain't pretty. It's a big mess 'o being hurt, and 'o course jealous, and also sad for you, 'cause 'o Bobby, and it's hard to separate that out. Thing is, I know that anytime now, I'm gonna start bein' mad. I c'n feel it, waitin', and it's a powerful big thing. When that happens I'd like to be somewheres else, so I cain't do or say nothin' I cain't take back."

The news that Ennis was leaving was smothering Jack's elation that he was, apparently, ready to forgive him. "Ennis, I sure wish you wouldn't go. I feel like now's we need t'stick together, more 'n ever."

"This ain't for keeps. It's jus' for a little while. I jus'…" He held up his hands in a peacemaking gesture. "I jus' cain't be around you right now."

"This ain't fair. You tell me you ain't leavin' me, but before you'll forgive me you're just gonna desert me for awhile so's I'm good 'n sorry when you get back."

Ennis sighed. "Goddammit, this ain't about you."

"My son just died. Maybe it oughta be."

"Well, Jack, if you hadn't fucked Lureen, I'd be delighted to give you as much comfort as I got in me. Things're tough all over. You wanna talk fair? None of this is fair. That boy 'o yours oughtn't be gone, I oughtn't be feelin' like a stake's clear through my chest and you oughtn't be left alone in your time 'o grief. We all got needs, well…this is what I need."

"T'be far away from me, y'mean."

"No. _You're_ what I need, dummy. I'm goin' away for a spell so's I c'n have us back the way it was. So you best let me get on with it." Jack was at a loss for further argument. He stood back as Ennis tossed his Thermos into the front seat, then started to get in. He hesitated, turned back and crossed to where Jack was still standing, struck dumb. He reached out, took Jack's face in his hands and kissed him, a slow and penetrating kiss that spun out for a long moment. He drew back and sighed. "I love you," he said. "If I didn't, this shit wouldn't feel so bad."

Jack watched as Ennis went back to the truck, got in, and drove away, swallowed almost at once by the dense trees, leaving Jack feeling like the last man on earth.


	18. Chapter 17

**A/N:**_ Couple of things._

_First of all, a number of people have commented that Ennis's younger daughter's name is Francine whereas in the film it is Jenny. In the short story it's Francine. I have no clue why they changed this seemingly insignificant detail, but they did. I chose to stick with story canon on this point, although I've chosen film canon for other things (Alma's husband's name, for example)._

_Second, I found it deeply rewarding to read the comments to the most recent chapter and find people voicing such varied feelings about it. Some of you are really on Jack's side and think Ennis is behaving awfully, some of you are on Ennis's side and think Jack deserves what he gets, and still others of you can see both men's sides of the problem and can empathize with both of them. What this tells me is that I did what I meant to do, namely write a situation in which neither party is clearly the wronged party and both have valid arguments, and in which neither Jack nor Ennis is the "bad guy" here._

_To answer a few specific questions:  
1. Yes, we will be seeing Lizzie again.  
2. No, we haven't heard the last of Stan Forrester.  
3. Yes, I'm getting kind of close to the end (maybe three or four chapters after this one) but I already have plans for the sequel._

_Thank you. On with the chapter._

_

* * *

_

Coming home to the ranch was a hollow relief. It'd be nice to sleep in his own bed, but he'd be there alone. Things were familiar and welcome here, but that which was most familiar and welcome had taken itself off to Plattsburg.

Marianne breezed past him with the groceries from the cabin, only about a third of which had been consumed. She had been exactly the kind of companion he needed, to wit, she'd kept her mouth shut and let Jack stew in his own juices, which was just what he wanted to do. When he'd gotten into her van he'd opened his mouth to offer some kind of explanation, but she'd cut him off. "Jack, you and Ennis are like family to me. But I'm not getting in the middle, are we clear?" He was clear, not to mention relieved. The idea of having to explain everything to Marianne made his head hurt, and he was glad to just sit in the passenger seat and brood.

As happy as he'd been to hear Ennis's parting declarations, that didn't lessen the sting of the fact that he had, in fact, been _parting._ He wanted to be mad at him for leaving at a time like this, but all he could manage was a profound sense of self-pity that made him want to kick his _own_ ass. Half of him felt Ennis was completely justified, the other half was pissed off that his grief seemed to mean nothing in the shadow of his indiscretion with Lureen.

He didn't bother to unpack. The bed looked so inviting. He could envision himself flopping down on it, curling on his side and going right to sleep. Maybe he could sleep until Ennis came back. Maybe he could sleep until doomsday.

He changed into a workshirt and headed out the back door, taking his hat off the pegboard as he went. Borrickson, the stock manager, was walking from the stables towards the home paddock; Jack hailed him. "Hey, Jack," Borrickson said, tipping his hat back on his ruddy face. He was built like a fire hydrant with coloring to match. "Didn't think you were gonna be back for a few days."

"Slight change of plans."

"Say...I was sure as hell sorry to hear about your son."

Jack sighed. "Thanks, Rod."

"Where's Ennis?"

"He went up to Plattsburg to take a look at a friend's operation and give him some advice. Whyn't you show me them new calves, and we'll see if any of 'em gonna earn their keep?"

* * *

Ennis sat in the passenger seat of Dave's little four-wheel-drive cart as they zipped around his farm, wishing for a good old-fashioned horse. Dave was chattering on and on about birth rates and stud fees and milk production and Ennis wasn't hearing a word. He felt mildly guilty about this. Here he was, supposedly helping a colleague make some improvements, and all he could think about was his love life.

Dave pulled up to a pen where two bulls paced back and forth, eyeballing each other and snorting. He and Ennis got off the cart and stood at the iron fence. "What do you think?" Dave asked. "You think either of them's good enough for show?"

Dave was relatively new at the livestock business. He'd bought, improved and then sold several orchards for excellent return and was now trying his hand at cattle and dairy farming. Ennis knew him from the trade shows; Dave had sought him out in particular and they'd become something like friends. He looked at the bulls. "Well…that one there's a little short. I dunno, I ain't the real expert."

"Who is, then?"

Ennis sighed. Dave had never been to their ranch and he'd never met Jack. He could either talk his way around it or tell him the truth. "Fella that co-owns my ranch, he does all the breedin' and showin'," Ennis said, hating himself for his cowardice, but not having the energy to fight another uphill battle just now. "He's damn near psychic about it."

"Well, I wish you'da brought him along."

Ennis was starting to wish he had, too. "He's back at the ranch. Lots to do."

"Always is. Well, then, lemme go show you my foreman's office, got all the paperwork in there, the schedules, the rotations…"

Dave's voice faded away as they clambered back aboard his hellishly uncomfortable go-cart. Ennis grabbed the handhold by his hip as Dave careened off, jabbering cheerfully, his voice a mere buzzing against the clamor of Ennis's own thoughts.

* * *

Jack worked until nightfall forced him to stop. He and Rod examined all the new calves, marking their ears with clip-tags. Jack found one he wanted to groom for a time to see how it grew. It might show well with the proper care. He got on Saskatoon and rode the circuit, out to the north paddock, over to the east paddock, and back to the homestead, a round trip of about fifteen miles. He sat in the the foreman's tiny office and checked the logbook, then went out and yelled at the stock manager just for good measure.

He tromped back to the house after dark, exhausted. Marianne had left him a note. "There's a lasagna in the fridge. You know what to do with it. Get some sleep and don't drink too much." He smiled at her motherly tone and reached around to preheat the oven.

He jumped when the phone rang and then leapt for it, hoping it'd be Ennis. "Hello?"

"Jack?"

It wasn't Ennis. Jack sagged into one of the kitchen chairs. "Oh. Hey, Lureen." He sighed. "How're you holdin' up, honey?"

He heard her take a few steadying breaths. "I'm gettin' by," she said. "How are you?"

_Fantastic, just peachy. Thanks to you, I'm eatin' lasagna in an empty house._ "I ain't so great," he said, his own ears surprised to hear the truth coming out of his mouth. "Ennis 'n me…havin' some problems."

"God," she choked. "It's my fault, ain't it? I'm sorry, Jack, I didn't mean for any of this to happen, it's just…"

"There was two of us there, it ain't all on you," Jack said. "I just wish I had me a time machine so's I could take it back."

"It's probably best you told him, though."

Jack rubbed his forehead with one hand. "I didn't. He figured it before I c'd decide what I was gonna do."

"Oh, no."

"Yeah. He's up in Plattsburg right now, I got no idea when he's comin' home…" Jack held the receiver away from his face as he swallowed the lump in his throat. "He had t'get away from me, I guess."

"He'll be back," Lureen said, firmly. "Don't you doubt it, now."

"I cain't help it." Neither of them spoke for a moment. "How're things there? You still fixin' t'move away?"

"More'n ever. I feel like the last sane person on earth. I ain't seen Daddy since…that night. Momma's just playin' quiet 'n stickin' with him, which I mighta figured. But 'o course no one knows what happened, so everbody figures it must be me jus' bein' a bitch. Honest, I wouldn't be surprised if he was tellin' folks that Bobby's dyin' was my fault." She sighed. "I'm just tryin' t'sell the house 'n pack what I need. My cousin in Savannah's thrilled I'm comin', she says I c'n stay with her till I get m'own place." She hesitated. "I'm thinkin' I might start up a business 'o my own, with the money you gave me."

"That sounds like a fine plan."

"I don't know. I just know I gotta get myself outta here." She cleared her throat. "But this ain't why I called. I jus' wanted t'let you know that I sent along a box with Bobby's things what you picked out. I threw in a few other things myself. It oughta be there by the end 'o the week."

"Thank you," Jack said. "It's kind 'o you."

"Ain't no trouble. And…Jack?"

"Yeah?"

"Listen, if'n you need t'talk, well…you know my number."

Jack shook his head, imagining the karmic debt he'd accrue if he vented his troubles to the woman who'd caused them. "Thanks, but I don't know if…"

"'O course, that might be a bit odd, mightn't it?"

"Just a little."

"Well…you take care, Jack. I'm sure everthin'll work out jus' fine."

"I hope you're right, Lureen. You let me know how you're doin'."

"I will. Goodnight."

"Bye." He hung up and leaned back, presing his fingers to his eyeballs. They felt sandy and strained, and a steady throb was taking up residence just behind them.

He got up and put the lasagna in the oven, setting the timer just to be safe. He could easily imagine himself going out to the deck and losing track of time until Marianne's poor lasagna was reduced to smoldering cinders. The night air outside was refreshing, but nothing much pleased him at the moment. Nothing seemed beautiful, nothing felt comfortable, the earth was out of alignment on its axis and it wasn't in his power to set things right.

He sat down. Lureen had been right about one thing, though. A sympathetic, objective ear wouldn't go amiss in this situation. He briefly considered calling Lizzie, then rejected the idea. She was back in her own life, and fond as he was of her, she was still a very new friend. This wasn't exactly something you discussed with the boys over a few beers down at the White Horse, either.

He thought back to other difficult times of his life, other crises, other issues. Who had he talked about them with? Ennis. And when Ennis _was_ the problem, who had he talked to? No one. There was no one he trusted as much as Ennis, no one he felt he could really talk to as much as Ennis. In the past when there'd been problems, which of course there had been, they'd managed to talk enough to work it out. How could he do that if Ennis kept running from him?

Beer with the boys down at the White Horse was sounding like a better and better idea with each passing minute.

* * *

"You're skimpin' where you oughtn't and payin' too much where it ain't needed," Ennis said. He was sitting at Dave's desk in the farmhouse, Dave peering over his shoulder. "You cain't cut labor and expect t'maintain this many head. You gotta spend a little if'n you wanna manage this place right. A poorly-run farm's worse'n no farm at all. It'll sink you sure's shit. You need at leas' three more full-time hands and you really oughta have a foreman, place this size."

"I don't know if I can afford all that labor right now."

"Then you gotta cut back on your herd size until you can. Work up gradual-like."

"Gradual? You turned a profit in your first two years!"

Ennis sighed. "Not 'cause 'o my ranchin' skills. I had other things workin' in my favor. And you 'n I don't work the same markets, y'know. You're goin' after the wholesale beef market, you gotta maximize and minimize, Dave. Maximize the return and minimize the cost. But if you ain't staffed right you ain't goin' nowhere. But then look here…why the hell you payin' vet bills t'some guy in Rochester when you c'n take your pick 'o prob'ly four or five large-animal vets in three counties?"

"This guy's supposed to be the best."

"They're cattle, not liver-transplant patients. He may be the best but he ain't worth the extra cash, I promise you. Get a local vet, for Christ's sake." He stood up, rubbing his neck. "Man, I am bushed."

"I made up the guest bedroom for you. Mary's gone to Albany overnight, but she'll be back tomorrow."

Ennis managed a small smile. "I reckon we c'n manage." He moved to the living room and sat down, his spine still vibrating from Dave's hell-machine.

"So, uh…you gonna tell me why the sudden visit?"

"I don't get you."

"I've asked and asked you to come up here and give me some advice, and it's always the same. No time, got a ranch to run, maybe next season. Then out of the clear blue sky, you call and say you're on your way. I'm grateful, don't get me wrong…I just don't know why."

Ennis sighed, taking the beer Dave was offering him. "Had me a coupla free days, figured I'd see how they do things in New York State."

Dave sat down opposite him. "You've got woman troubles, then?"

"Huh?" Ennis said, frowning.

"I don't mean to pry into your business, but you look fucking exhausted, Ennis. And you just seem…sad. That special kind of sad a man gets when he's flying solo and isn't used to it."

"Sounds like you might be acquainted with that kinda sad."

Dave shrugged. "I've spent my share of nights on the couch. Doubt there's a man who hasn't, especially in our line of work. Long hours, never a rest, never a holiday, and it's always fucking _there._"

"Ain't that the truth." Ennis watched Dave's face. "Y'might say I just needed a bit 'o time away."

Dave nodded sagely, as if that revealed everything. "Your woman sleeping around on you?"

Ennis shut his eyes. He'd made a deal with himself when they'd moved out here. A deal and a promise. It was okay not to volunteer the details of his personal life if it didn't come up, but the deal was that if it did come up, he couldn't let the easier, more comfortable lie stand up in place of the truth. The promise, which he'd made to Jack inside his own head, never voicing it, was never to be ashamed. But it would have been so easy just to say yes, his woman had done him wrong. He and Dave could commiserate about it and that would be that. Easy, so easy and comfortable. He felt like crying. Why couldn't the truth be as easy and comfortable? Maybe someday it would be, but it wasn't likely to be a day he'd live to see. "In a way," he finally said, "except it ain't my woman."

"Just a girlfriend, then?"

Ennis cleared his throat. "You remember when I mentioned the fella co-owns the ranch with me?"

"Sure. What's his name, again?"

"Jack. Jack Twist." Just saying his name hurt.

"Right." Dave's eyes got big. "Oh, shit! Is he screwin' around with your girlfriend?"

_There must be an easier way._ "Naw, it ain't like that." He shifted in his seat. "Truth is, Dave…Jack ain't just my business partner. He's my _partner_ partner, if you take my meanin'." Dave was looking at him blankly. "Y'see what I'm sayin'?" Still nothing. Ennis blew air through his teeth, exasperated. "It was _him_ screwed around on _me,_ get it?"

Comprehension came into Dave's face, then in quick succession surprise, revulsion, recovery and a species of phony bonhomie that Ennis had seen before on the faces of others. He thought of it as the "No problem!" face people put on when they wanted to mask their discomfort with fake tolerance. It wasn't his favorite reaction, but it sure beat a right hook to the jaw. "Oh, I see," Dave said, clearing his throat. "I, uh…didn't know you were like that," he said.

_Like that? He makes it sound like he just found out I cheat at poker or somethin'._ "Well, I don't go 'round wearin' no sign 'round my neck, but I ain't no liar, neither. You asked, so I told you the truth." Dave smiled weakly. "I don't guess you still wanna hear 'bout my troubles none, then."

Dave sat back, flapping a hand. "Aw, why the hell not. I'm intrigued. I know all about woman troubles. What the hell kind of troubles do two men have between them?"

"The kind where one sleeps with his ex-wife."

Dave's face scrunched up in sympathetic pain, and it looked sincere enough. "Goddamn, that's a hard one. That's gonna leave a mark."

"Yeah," Ennis muttered. "So I jus' thought maybe I ought not to be around for a coupla days, jus' till I cool down."

"That's a bitch of a situation."

"At least."

"So his ex lives near you, then?"

"Naw, she lives in Texas. Jack was down there visitin'."

"He _visits_ his ex-wife? And you let him?"

Ennis sighed. He really hadn't wanted to get into all this, but it was too goddamn late now. "Their boy killed himself las' week. That's why he was down there. That's how come they…y'know. They got emotional."

Dave was staring at him. "Wait…just wait a goddamn minute. His _son_ just committed suicide and you left him all alone at home so you could…what was it? Cool off? I don't know how your kind does things, but to my mind that's just cold."

"It ain't like that, it was jus' that I…"

"Look, Ennis, being cheated on hurts. I oughta know, it's happened to me twice. I done it once myself, too. Shit happens, but you get through it. You either split up or you don't, but you move on. But a man losing his son…that's something else. You let him grieve by himself and that's gonna last a lot longer than some post-funeral screw. Hell, people _always_ want to screw after funerals, everybody knows that! That was their damn _boy!_"

Ennis sat staring straight ahead. He felt like he'd been sucker-punched. Hearing it said like that was like somebody opening a window into his skull, a window Jack had been too guilt-ridden to open. What _was_ his hurt set against Jack's loss? Could you compare? Was there some table of values by which he could measure who was in the right, and who'd been wronged worse? It didn't matter. Right now, sitting here and listening to an outsider's reaction, he did not feel like the wronged party. He knew Jack hadn't stayed at the cabin. He wouldn't have done, not alone. He could picture him at home, sitting on the deck with a beer, trying not to think about Bobby and having no one to distract him, no one to comfort him if he thought about him anyway, no one to hold him when the night was too quiet.

Once, when she was much younger, Junior had asked him, in an adorably serious tone, how you knew when you were in love. She had a crush on some boy at school and envisioned herself the heroine of a timeless romance, and needed a way to quantify her feelings. Ennis had been at a bit of a loss. He'd thought for a moment, going back over his relationship with Jack and how it felt, what it meant, and how it made him act, and had gleaned some kind of an answer for her. "Junior," he'd said, "You know you love somebody when their happiness is more important t'you than yours."

She'd nodded, trying to look wise and thoughtful, and hopefully realizing that the boy at school was just an infatuation. Ennis's statement had recurred to him a number of times over the years, and now it came back to haunt him. _I oughta care more 'bout his grief than our trouble,_ he thought. _Our trouble'll keep. His grievin's here now._ "Goddamn," he muttered.

"Damn is right. Or…I don't know." Dave seemed suddenly uncomfortable about his outburst, or perhaps he was just remembering that he was talking about two men. "I don't know the particulars. Hell, for all I know he busts your balls every day and you've been dying to get away and this was just the excuse you needed."

Ennis stood up. "Dave, I gotta go."

"Wait, wait a minute…where you think you're going?"

"Home. I gotta go home right now."

"Ennis, you can't go _now._ You're dead tired, you'll drive right off the road. If you mean to leave, you can leave in the morning."

Ennis faltered. Dave had a point. He was exhausted, and it was almost midnight. He could sleep for a few hours…but a delay of even a short time felt like too long. "I dunno…you got me all turned around now…"

"Well, that's good, but have some sense. Get a night's sleep. Hell, he's sleeping, too. Go back with your eyes more than half-open and when you're able to form a coherent sentence."

Ennis nodded. "I s'pose you're right, Dave. Where's that guest room, then?"

* * *

Jack walked into the White Horse, looking out for Fred Trimble, who he was supposed to be meeting. Fred hailed him from a table where he sat with Gus Flaubert and a man Jack didn't know He headed over. "Hey, Jack," Fred said as Jack took a seat at their table, the men's faces accordingly sober in keeping with Jack's recent loss. "Do you know Rich Whiting?"

"Don't b'lieve so," Jack said, extending his hand across the table.

Rich shook it, smiling. "Nice to meet you, Twist. I've sure heard a lot about you from these guys."

"Ain't none of it true, not unless they said I was happy 'n handsome."

Everyone laughed. "Where's Ennis tonight?" Gus asked.

"Oh, he's up Plattsburg helpin' out a friend," Jack said, sending a clear change-the-subject look at Fred.

Fred got the message. "So, you fellas see Grant Linebeck's new truck?"

And so on from there. People's new trucks, to their old beat-up trucks, to their wives, to their horses, to the high school baseball team's chances in the state playoffs, to the city council's latest idiocy, to the new nightclub that was opening outside of town next month, and on and on. All the while the beer flowed, and Jack found himself neatly anaesthetized before too long. He didn't let himself get too drunk, purely as a precautionary measure, but he thought he'd earned getting a pleasant buzz to take the edge off.

Eventually Rich headed home, and Gus followed not long afterwards. "Well, Fred, I best get home. Sunup's early and I've got a lot to do tomorrow."

Fred nearly leapt out of his chair. "Let me drive you home, Jack."

"I'm fine."

"I just hate to think of you being by yourself."

"I said I'm fine."

"Will you at least let me walk you out to your car?"

Jack frowned. That seemed strange. "What am I, your date? You gonna wanna kiss me then?" He cackled. "Didn't know you was joinin' our team there, Freddola!"

Fred colored. "I'll get my coat. Don't go nowhere." He disappeared into the crush of people.

Jack waited for a moment, then shrugged. _Screw it. I'm fine._ He headed out the door into the cool, clear night.

* * *

Ennis drove as fast as he dared. A speeding ticket would delay him longer than a few miles on the dial. He was already later than he would have liked to have been, because Dave hadn't woken him early. "You needed the rest," Dave had said, in response to Ennis's angry questions. As a result, he hadn't gotten on the road until almost eleven, and it was a two-hour drive home.

He was almost there. A sense of urgency he couldn't explain had ahold of him. What was the rush, anyway? It wasn't like Jack had anywhere to go. He might even still be at the cabin. If that was the case, Ennis would just have to turn north and head up there. More driving, no big deal.

Still, something at the back of his head pushed him relentlessly forward. _Go faster,_ it said.

He blew past the "Welcome to Farmingdale" sign a mile from the ranch, barely giving it a glance. The familiar roads near home whizzed by and within a few minutes, he was pulling into the driveway. The sight of the house, looking so normal and stable, calmed him a great deal. He could imagine Jack out with the herds, maybe conferring with Rod, or maybe riding out to the north paddock. He pulled his truck into the garage and got out, taking a deep breath. _Everything's okay,_ he reassured himself.

"Howza, Mist'Ennis," said a familiar drawl. Ennis didn't even have to turn around to know who'd spoken.

"Howdy, Cady," he said. Cady was their longest-serving ranch hand, a Quebecois of indeterminate age with a face tanned to leather and an Acadian accent so thick it was like gumbo. Most people could barely understand him, but Ennis couldn't imagine running the ranch without him. "How's things?"

"Thought youza be wiz Mist'Jack," Cady drawled.

"Oh, is he still up at the cabin?" Ennis asked, his heart sinking at the idea that Jack might not even be here.

An odd look crossed Cady's face. "Thought youza be in town, wiz Mist'Jack," Cady repeated.

His expression was making Ennis's heart beat fast. "Cady…what do you mean? Where's Jack?"

Cady nodded towards the house. "Miz'Mairie, she done tell." He began to shamble off.

"Cady!" Ennis called after him, uselessly. He turned and ran up the porch steps and flung open the front door. "Marianne!" he shouted.

"Ennis?" came her shout in return. The mere fact that Marianne was shouting brought a cold sweat to his brow. "Thank God!" She hurried out from the kitchen and Ennis took a step back. She was pale and sweaty and she'd been crying.

He strode forward. "What's going on?" he said. "Where's Jack? What's happened?"

Her head was shaking back and forth on its own. "I wanted to call you, but…I didn't know where you'd gone, he never said, and I thought maybe if I called…"

Ennis grabbed her by the upper arms and gave her a brisk shake. "Marianne! Where is Jack?"

She looked up at him. "He's in the hospital."

Ennis's perception shrank to a tiny point. He could hear the blood rushing in his ears as everything went dark around him save Marianne's face. "What happened?" he asked, forcing his voice into even tones.

She took a deep breath. "He went out to the White Horse last night. Fred Trimble saw him there. He wasn't too drunk, but he left alone." Tears were running down her face again. "Ennis, there were five of them."

Ennis let her go and stepped back, his feet operating on their own accord, taking him in meaningless trips and loops around the living-room floor. "Did they have tire irons?" he heard himself ask, in a tiny, frightened voice that didn't sound like his own. It sounded like a little boy's voice.

Marianne frowned, no doubt at the oddity of the question. "No," she said. "Just their fists. One of them had a two-by-four. They didn't get him too bad…not on his body, anyway. Fred and a couple other men from the bar came outside when they'd barely begun and stopped it. But…one of them just got him in the head with that two-by-four, right at the end…" She reached out and grabbed his arm, stopping his perambulations. "Ennis, he's not waking up."

A great black yaw had opened beneath Ennis, and he would have gladly jumped in. The only thing stopping him was that he didn't want to leave Jack alone. Not again. If he had to handcuff himself to Jack's wrist, he was never leaving him alone again.

He pulled himself together. It felt like a physical effort; a tightening of ropes, a winching of the stays, wrapping himself tight like a swaddled baby so he wouldn't fly apart. "C'mon," he said, grabbing Marianne's hand and heading for the door. "You're drivin'."


	19. Chapter 18

_**A/N:** I received a very interesting comment on the previous chapter from a reader who'd been wondering where all this was headed. When's the conflict going to be resolved? When are all these different story threads going to come together? Where's this all going?_

_Answer: nowhere in particular. I don't see this story as a discrete unit, but as part of a continuum. I'm not attempting to write a story with a traditional plot structure, i.e. Plot Point 1, Plot Point 2, Climax, Resolution. My only goal was to write about two men living as a gay couple in rural America, what that meant for their lives and the lives of those around them, and how they dealt with it. I wanted to look at how they dealt with their families, their neighbors, their business, the people who didn't approve of them, and of course how they dealt with each other and the ins and outs of their relationship. There are a number of conflicts in this story. Some may be resolved. Some may not be. Like life, that's the idea. Honestly, the point at which I end "Human Interest" and begin the sequel will be kind of arbitrary. They could just as easily be the same story, but I'd rather not write some kind of hundred-chapter behemoth. It's just easier to split it into individual stories._

_The best analogy I can draw is the "Little House on the Prairie" books. Might seem strange, but it fits. Those books weren't headed anywhere in particular. They were just about Laura, her life as she grew from a girl to a woman, her family, her homes, her friends, and eventually her own husband and child. Sure, big events happened from time to time, but basically it just followed her along with whatever happened. So hopefully, you will care enough about Jack and Ennis and the people around them that you'll care about what happens to them, even if there isn't an ultimate point to it._

_So that's my master plan. Stuff happens. It's simple, but I like it._

_Also, yes, I'm conscious of having put poor Jack through the wringer in this story. Sorry, Jack. Hopefully it'll be someone else's turn soon._

_At the end of this chapter, Ennis has what you might call a life-altering experience. I just hope it blends with his character as we know it so far._

_

* * *

_

It was difficult for Ennis to keep still and quiet while Marianne drove in her typically efficient, safe manner. All he wanted to do was shout _Faster! Go faster! Run that red light!_ This was why he'd wanted her to drive...so they wouldn't end up splattered all over the pavement.

He stared out the window, tapping his clenched fist against his mouth. _Jack. My Jack. Is not waking up. Was hurt by someone. Probably someone who's a friend of Stan Forrester._ He shoved that thought away, hard, before the red veil of rage could descend over him and blot out all thoughts save one: _kill him._

Marianne pulled up to the hospital and parked. Ennis was out of the car before it had stopped rolling and striding quickly to the doors, Marianne hurrying to catch up with him. "Jack Twist," he said to the receptionist. She consulted her little directory.

"He's up on three."

Ennis bolted for the stairs, deeming the elevators too slow, and emerged on the third floor. The first person he saw was Peter Llewellyn in a white coat, stethoscope around his neck, at the nurses' station. "Pete!"

He turned and sagged with relief when he saw Ennis. "Ennis, thank God Marianne found you. We didn't know where..."

"Where is he?"

Peter put out both hands to stop Ennis from barreling right past him. "Will you just hold up a moment?" he said. His no-nonsense doctor-voice, so unlike his usual way of speaking, made Ennis stop and refocus. "Okay. Jack was brought in last night with head trauma, he was struck with a two-by-four, here," he said, placing his hand on his own head a few inches above his left ear. "He had a few other scrapes and bruises but nothing serious. At this time, he is still unconscious."

Ennis swallowed hard. "Is he gonna be okay?"

"Well, his skull is intact. That's good news. Most of the time with this kind of injury, the patient sleeps for awhile and then wakes up with a hell of a headache. But if he doesn't wake up..." Peter sighed. "He could slip into a coma. We won't know if he suffered brain damage until he wakes up. I'm inclined to think that he didn't, if the blow wasn't strong enough to fracture his skull."

"Brain damage?" Ennis repeated, his voice bleached pale with horror. He thought of Jack, the Jack he knew, sharp and strong, quick-witted and cheerful. Then he thought of him with brain damage, maybe unable to talk, or see properly, or remember things...maybe not able to remember who Ennis was. The image was too awful to hold for long inside his head. It was a hot branding iron that'd burn him if he let it touch him too long, so he put it out of his mind before it left its scorch-mark.

Peter sighed. "Well, it's possible. Like I said, we won't know."

Ennis nodded, telling himself to think positive. Jack would be okay. No way he'd let some stupid piece of wood swung by an ignorant asshole take him down like that. "C'n I see him?" he asked. His voice sounded scratchy, like someone had run a cheese grater over his throat.

"Right this way." He led Ennis down the hall. "He's in there," Peter said, nodding through an open doorway. He put a hand on Ennis's arm. "I'll be at the nurses' station if you need me."

Ennis hardly noticed him leave. He walked slowly into Jack's room on feet that felt like blocks of ice, wanting to see him but afraid to at the same time. He kept his eyes downcast so all he saw was the tile floor until he made it to the foot of Jack's bed. He took a deep breath and looked up, and then the breath was pushed out of him in a rush. "Oh, rodeo," he whispered.

He looked pale. His dark hair was like a swatch of the night sky against the white sheets...well, half a swatch. The upper left half of his head was bandaged. Ennis made his way around the bed, drawing a chair close. He sat down slowly, his gaze riveted on Jack's face.

As he looked at his injured mate, the red veil threatened to descend over his eyes once again. He could feel it surging hard, demanding to be set free upon whoever was convenient. In his younger days, Ennis would have released the anger on a whim, letting it lash out at will. But he wasn't a young man anymore, and he wasn't free. He had Jack, and his girls, and a business to run with employees depending on him for their pay, so he'd be stronger than his own anger. He had to be. There was a time for that, and this wasn't it.

He reached out with tentative fingers and touched Jack's forearm where it lay on the bed. A purple bruise wrapped around his upper arm above his elbow. It looked like someone had grabbed him...Ennis could see the fingermarks. He brushed his fingertips over Jack's cheek, the scratchiness of his stubble rasping. _Didn't get a shave this mornin', hoss. You're gettin' sloppy._ Except Jack hadn't shaved that morning because he'd been lying in this hospital bed. Alone. Alone while Ennis had eggs and coffee in Dave Tomlinson's kitchen, and alone while Ennis covered the miles that he'd put between them. Alone while a gang of hoodlums jumped him in some parking lot.

Ennis was too worried and angry to really appreciate the size of the guilt he'd earned himself, but he could glimpse its sheer enormity as it waited to bury him in an avalanche he might never dig himself out of. _I left him alone and they got him. Not with tire irons, but with two-by-fours._

Tears pricked at the corners of his eyes. _Look what they done t'you, darlin'. Look what I let happen t'you._ No, this wasn't the time for his rage. But that time would come. That was a promise.

* * *

Marianne was waiting by the nurse's station when Peter came back. "Charlene, call the sheriff," he said to the nurse. "He wanted to talk to Ennis as soon as he turned up."

"Pete, what about Jack?" Marianne asked, stepping forward.

Peter shook his head. "It's hard to say. My opinion? If he wakes up soon, he'll be fine." He picked up Jack's chart and flipped through it. "Everything else looks okay. If he sleeps more than a few more hours, I'm going to run an EEG on him. Brain-wave scan," he said, off Marianne's questioning look. He leaned on the counter, shaking his head. "I can't believe this."

"Sheriff got the boys that jumped him, didn't he?"

"Yeah, but they aren't talking."

The nurse tapped his arm. "Dr. Llewellyn, the sheriff says he's on his way over."

"Okay." Peter sighed, and walked back up the hall to Jack's room. He took a few steps inside and hesitated, loathe to intrude.

Ennis was sitting close to the bed, his eyes on Jack's sleeping face. He was holding Jack's hand, his other hand gently stroking Jack's forearm as if he were soothing him. Ennis wasn't a demonstrative man, not around other people, but in this cautious, quiet touch Peter could glimpse the tender nature that Ennis concealed behind his gruff exterior. He was about to say something to alert Ennis to his presence when Ennis suddenly spoke. "He fought back," he said.

"I know."

"Lookit his hands," Ennis said, drawing back a little and glancing up at Peter. Both of Jack's hands were bruised and scratched. Ennis cleared his throat. "Pete...did they take it?"

Peter frowned. "Take what?"

Ennis showed him the hand he was holding. "His ring. It's gone. Did they take it off him?" His voice cracked.

Peter felt a stab of irritation with himself. "Oh, damn...no, they didn't." He dove into his pocket and withdrew Jack's ring. "I've got it here. I'm sorry, I meant to give it to you. I had to remove it when I was cleaning his hands. I, uh...I felt strange about putting it back on him. Thought you should do it."

Ennis relaxed a little. He reached out and took the ring, but didn't put it on Jack's finger. He slipped it onto his own instead. "I'll just hold onto it till he's awake," he murmured.

"Ennis, I've called Walter, he's on his way over. He can answer all your questions, and I think he's got some things to discuss with you." Ennis nodded absently, his eyes on Jack again. Peter sighed. "Listen...I know neither of us wants to think about it, but you ought to get a copy of your power of attorney agreement here, in case we need it. It'll have to be attached to any medical procedures you authorize for Jack before they're performed, and we don't want to have to waste time getting it."

Ennis turned an alarmed face to Peter. "Y'think it'll come to that?"

"I honestly don't know. I hope not. But if the worst happens..."

"Y'mean if he never wakes up and turns into a vegetable you'll need some piece 'o paper sayin' that I'm the one's gotta decide whether or not t'let him die!" Ennis exclaimed, his face crumpling. "Aw, sweet Jesus," he said, a brief sob getting past him. He let Jack's hand fall to the bed and his head dropped to rest on their twined fingers. Peter saw him take a few deep breaths and get himself together. He straightened up, released Jack's hand and sat back. "I'll have Marianne get the paperwork," he said, dully. "Best t'be prepared."

The nurse poked her head in. "Doctor, the sheriff's here."

Ennis sighed and stood up. He looked down at Jack, and then to Peter's surprise, he bent and kissed Jack's forehead. "I'll be back, rodeo," he murmured.

Walter was in the lounge by the nurse's station. Marianne got up, her face anxious, as Ennis approached. "How is he?" she asked.

"Asleep. Would you go on in and sit with him? I don't want him t'be alone, if he wakes up."

"Sure," she said, nodding. She disappeared around the corner.

Ennis joined Walter in the lounge. "Ennis," the sheriff said, standing to shake his hand. "I sure hope Jack's all right."

"Me too, Walter. What can you tell me?"

"Well..." He shifted, looking a little uncomfortable. "After your barn incident, I decided I'd best keep myself abreast of what this Forrester's up to, so I got one of my deputies to act like he was of the same mind and join his little church."

"That's fast work. Ain't hardly been two weeks since the fair."

"Well, it wasn't hard for him t'get on the inside. Forrester's real anxious to build up a big group. So far it ain't more'n twenty people, thank God." He hesitated again. "Forrester's picked you and Jack as his Public Enemy #1, it seems."

"Damn, what a surprise," Ennis said, flatly.

"Couple of days ago, my deputy told me that he was planning some kind of...action."

Ennis just stared at him. "Walter, are you tellin' me that you knew this was gonna happen?" He took a step closer. "You knew they was plannin' t'hurt Jack and you did _nothin'_ t'stop it? I sure's hell hope you ain't tellin' me that, 'cause I like you and I'd hate t'have harsh words with you."

Walter met his eyes. "I knew they were planning it. But Ennis...they were planning to come after _you,_ not Jack. I knew you were both out of town, so I waited to see what Forrester would do next. When Fred Trimble told me Jack was back in town alone, I wasn't overly concerned because it was you they were aiming for." Ennis's head was spinning with new and improved varieties of guilt. As if it weren't bad enough that Jack had been attacked while alone, the attack had been meant for Ennis. "I asked Fred to keep an eye on Jack, just casually, and let me know if any of Forrester's little friends came around looking for you." He sighed. "I guess they got tired of waiting for you to show up."

"But...if you know this was planned, then..."

Walter rubbed his forehead, looking even more uncomfortable. "I tried, Ennis, but the DA won't issue an arrest warrant for Forrester. Not enough evidence. My deputy never actually heard him tell his boys anything, he just heard things from them. And _now_ all the boys are saying that Forrester never told them to do anything. I can try to get one of them to roll on Forrester, but I don't hold out much hope for it."

Ennis opened his mouth to speak, but perhaps fortunately for Walter, at that moment Fred Trimble came into the lounge, looking relieved to find Ennis there. "Ennis," he said, coming forward, his hand held out. Ennis pushed Fred's hand aside and hugged him, feeling Fred jump a little in surprise. Ennis was not the hugging sort, as a general rule.

"Thank you," Ennis said, drawing back and seizing Fred by the shoulders. "You mighta saved Jack's life, Fred."

"I was supposed to keep an eye on him," Fred said, his eyes downcast. "I tried to stay with him but he left while I was getting my coat..."

"You pulled them boys offa him, and I ain't never gonna forget it, y'hear?" Fred nodded, looking a little reassured. "Now. Sheriff here was just tellin' me that our friend Forrester is gonna get off scot free even though we all know he put my man in the hospital. Did I leave anything out, Walter?"

The sheriff sighed in exasperation. "I don't like it any more than you do, but I can't prove that he did anything unless I can get his boys to talk."

Ennis held up a finger. "Walter, I swear to you, if you don't see that man punished for what he done, I'll..."

Walter put his hand up. "I understand how you feel, but if you're thinking about taking the law into your own hands, I can't hear about it. I will do everything I can, okay? This isn't over yet, not by a long shot." His radio crackled with unintelligble squawkings, and he moved to the corner to talk into it.

Fred stepped around Ennis, his back to Walter, and fixed his gaze steadily over Ennis's shoulder. He spoke with tight lips, his voice low and meant for only Ennis's ears. "Me and Gus, Grant Linebeck and Rod Borrickson, we got a group all ready to go," he said, barely moving his mouth, his expression placid. Ennis didn't look at him. "He isn't gonna get away with it. You can come if you want but it'd be best if you were seen here. We'll go on over there and take care of business. He won't trouble you again."

Ennis shook his head slightly. "No. You ain't takin' no posse nowhere, Fred. I appreciate the gesture, but I don't want none 'o you gettin' in no trouble." He sighed. "Jack wouldn't want that."

"We can't just let it slide. Who's next? I don't want that man's poison in my town."

"We ain't gonna let it slide." Ennis smiled, a grim little smile. "I got a better idea."

"Ennis!" they heard Marianne call from down the hallway. "Pete!"

Ennis and Fred rushed out of the lounge and into Jack's room. Peter pushed his way to Jack's side, Ennis taking Marianne's place in the chair next to the bed. He leaned over Jack, who still looked asleep...but his head had moved. "What happened?" Peter said, his fingers to Jack's wrist.

"He, uh...he moved a little. And I think he said something." She touched Ennis's arm. "I think he said your name."

Ennis took Jack's hand again, searching his face for any sign that he might be waking up. "Jack?" he said, quietly. "C'n y'hear me, bud? C'mon, say somethin'. Open your eyes, now, you done slept enough."

Jack's hand twitched in his, and his head moved a little. Ennis heard Marianne suck in a breath. He was holding his own breath, watching intently and squeezing Jack's hand so he'd know he was there. "Jack?" Peter said.

Jack took a deep breath and let it out. Ennis could see his eyes moving behind his eyelids, and then his eyelids creaked open just a sliver. "Ennis?" he croaked.

Ennis had to bite his lip to keep from letting out a whoop. "I'm right here," he said, leaning closer.

Jack blinked a few times, then looked around groggily. "Am I dead?"

Ennis chuckled. "Naw, you ain't dead, hoss. You're in the hospital."

"Do you remember what happened?" Peter asked him, leaning over to look at Jack's eyes.

"I remember them sons 'o bitches jumpin' me." He tried to lift his head, then winced, his hand lifting to his head. "Christ, what'd they do?"

"Gotcha in the head there," Ennis said. "You been sleepin' all day."

Peter was adjusting the bed so Jack's head was elevated a little. "Jack, look at me." He complied, and Peter flashed his little penlight in his eyes. "Okay, now follow my finger." Jack did as he was told. "Do you feel dizzy? Sick to your stomach?"

"Uh..." Jack frowned. "No to both, I think. Feel pretty fuzzy, though."

"Do you know your name?"

"John Henry Twist, Jr."

Peter looked across at Ennis. "He seems fine. But I want to keep him overnight."

Jack sagged. "Aw, c'mon, Pete. I wanna go home."

"You hush up," Ennis said. "Listen to the doc."

Jack was looking around, his gaze a little distracted. "Head hurts."

"I'll have the nurse bring you some painkillers. The good stuff." He patted Jack's leg. "Glad to see you awake, Jack. I'll be back to check on you in a bit." He withdrew, Fred and Marianne following him, leaving Ennis alone with him.

Jack turned his head and let his gaze rest on Ennis's face. Ennis laid his hand on Jack's neck and stroked his thumb across his cheek, smiling. "There's my handsome fella," he murmured.

Jack frowned. "Hey. Why're you here, anyway?"

Ennis leaned closer, letting his hands rest on Jack's arm. He looked down at him, so relieved that he'd woken up and appeared undamaged that he felt a little dizzy. His mind had been busily making him imagine life without Jack, and it was a bleak prospect. Jack was the only person he'd ever really loved, and it had been hard enough to live without him during their fishing years, let alone if the separation were permanent. "I told Dave Tomlinson a bit 'o what was troublin' me, and he jus' had a way of puttin' it...well, it knocked some sense into me, and this morning I set out for home fast as I could. When I got here, Marianne told me what happened."

Jack looked up at him, his eyes welling up. "I've had a real bad coupla weeks, Ennis," he said, the tears spilling over and running across his face to wet the pillow.

Ennis nodded. "I know you have."

Jack's voice was shaky, like a scared child, his mind not yet awake enough to throw up all his defenses. "Please don' leave me again," he whispered.

"Oh, God," Ennis choked out, that monstrous guilt poking up its head and reminding him that it wasn't going away. He smoothed Jack's tousled hair back from his forehead, leaving his hand resting there. "I ain't never leavin' you again, rodeo. Y'hear me? Never." He shook his head, feeling his own eyes mist over. "I'm so sorry, Jack. I shouldn'a lef' you at the cabin. I shoulda stuck around 'n talked about it, but I was just so...I didn't know what t'do, I was all twisted up."

"I'm sorry 'bout Lureen," Jack said. "I cain't even tell you how much." He was crying openly now, and Ennis felt himself wanting to join in.

"Christ," Ennis managed. "It don't hardly matter no more." Jack reached out and touched Ennis's shirt. Ennis grasped his hand in both of his own and pressed it to his mouth, saying nothing, his eyes tight shut.

A few long moments passed in silence. Jack calmed himself, and Ennis just sent up thanks to whoever might be listening that he was okay. "Hey," Jack said.

"Hmm?"

"You're wearin' my ring, cowboy."

"Oh...yeah. Doc had t'take it offa you." He slipped it off his own finger and slid it back onto Jack's, seeing him wince a little as it passed over his raw knuckles.

"That's better," Jack said, looking down at his hand.

Ennis sighed and scrubbed his hands over his face. "Well...you mind if Marianne sits with you for a spell?"

"Sick 'o me already?"

Ennis chuckled. "Never. Naw, I jus' got some...well, some calls t'make and some folks t'see."

Jack frowned. "That sounds serious."

"Don't you worry none."

"Well, go ahead, then. I'm gonna be pretty dull company anyway."

Ennis hesitated. "I feel bad, though. Here I jus' said I ain't never leavin' you again, and now..."

"Well, I sure as hell hope you didn't mean _never_ never leavin' me, 'cause I do enjoy some privacy when I'm takin' a crap. Go on, Ennis, I ain't gonna get separation anxiety if you're gone for a coupla hours."

Ennis stood up. "Okay, then. I'll be back later." He bent over and kissed him. He intended it to be a quick goodbye kiss, but Jack seemed to have other plans. He slid his hand up around Ennis's neck and held him there, and soon enough Ennis found himself _really_ kissing him, and having to brace his hands on the bedrails so he didn't collapse on top of him. When Jack finally let him pull back, he felt a little weak in the knees. "Damn," he breathed.

"Just a reminder 'o why you keep me around."

"That ain't why I keep you around."

"Why, then?"

Ennis fixed him with a stern look. "Because I love you, asshole. As you damned well know."

Jack sighed. "You best be careful. You've said that three times in as many weeks. I'm gonna get spoiled."

"You go ahead 'n get spoiled. I'm startin' t'see why you like them words so much."

"Feels nice t'say 'em, don't it?"

"That ain't the best part."

"What's that?"

"Seein' your face when you hear 'em." Ennis squeezed Jack's hand and left the room, reluctantly, and headed back to the lounge near the nurses' station. Marianne and Fred were still there, but the sheriff was nowhere in sight. "Marianne, could..." he began, but she was already up and on her way to Jack's room.

Fred got up. "Walter's gone, Ennis. Now, you wanna tell me what we're gonna do?"

"What time is it?"

"Two thirty."

"That oughta work. We gotta take care of a few things before end 'o business today. I wanna do this tomorrow morning. At his restaurant, before they open."

"Do...what, exactly?"

"You'll see."

* * *

The next morning, Ennis was at the hospital just after eight. He'd returned there after his business was done the night before, intending to stay all night, but Jack had insisted he go home and get a decent night's sleep. He had agreed, under protest.

He hadn't, however, gotten a decent night's sleep, in fact he hadn't slept a wink. He'd spent the night thinking. About his plans for Forrester, and about Jack, and about himself. Even in the years they'd been living here, he'd held back. Not a lot, but enough. He'd resisted the terms people applied to him, and to them. He'd cringed when people referred to them as a couple among strangers. He'd probably hurt Jack's feelings innumerable times by backing off from his most innocent public gesture or comment. He'd been waiting, always waiting, for the condemnation from on high, for the public backlash, for the tire irons to swing. And now they had, despite his caution. So what had he gained? Nothing. It was too late to go back. He was just as stuck in his life with Jack as he had once been in his life with Alma, the only difference being that he was glad to be stuck. So what to do? Restrict his relationship with Jack to the safe walls of their own home, and treat him like a colleague out in public? That hadn't worked.

There was only one thing to do.

Jack was sitting up in bed, eating breakfast. "Hey!" he said, smiling as Ennis entered. The nurse was taking his blood pressure.

"Mornin', darlin'," Ennis said. He saw Jack blink in surprise, no doubt at the fact that Ennis had called him that in front of the nurse. Ennis went around to the side of the bed, leaned down and kissed Jack's cheek. Now Jack was in a full-on mouth-open state of surprise. Ennis looked at the nurse, who was barely suppressing a smile. "How is he?" he asked her.

"Ship-shape," she answered. "Did you get a look at this?" she asked, turning Jack's head toward Ennis. The bandage had been taken off, and Ennis could see the angry red weal left by the two-by-four and the purple bruise that spread out from it, reaching almost to Jack's left eye and up across his temple to his hairline.

Ennis winced. "Hurt much?"

Jack shrugged. "Whatever they got me on, I like it." The nurse left and Ennis sat down.

"Didja sleep okay?"

"They gave me somethin' for that, too. Drugs are my friends, I guess."

Ennis took a breath, rubbing his hands together nervously. "Jack, I been thinkin'."

"Didn't I tell you t'cut that out? That's how trouble starts."

"I want a ring."

Jack blinked. "What'd you say?" he asked, slowly.

"I want a ring. You've got one, I want one, too." Ennis met Jack's eyes. He was looking back at him steadily, a small smile on his face. "So let's go see Myron 'n tell him that we want him t'make me one."

Jack sighed and looked down at his hands, folded in his lap. "Ennis," he said, his voice steady and low, a serene half-smile on his face. "In my desk at home, in the upper left-hand drawer, way at the back, is a little black bag. Inside that bag is a ring exactly like this one, in your size."

Ennis gaped at him. "How...what..." he stammered.

"I had Myron make one to match mine."

"When?"

Jack met his eyes. "'Bout a week after you gave it to me." His smile broadened at Ennis's shock. "I jus' been waitin' for you t'want it. And I knew that someday, you would."

Ennis was speechless. The strength of Jack's faith in him, and in _them_, shamed and humbled him to the point that he wondered if he'd ever be good enough to deserve it. He lowered his head and shut his eyes, resting his forehead against his interlaced fingers. "Jack, I swear..." He trailed off, uncertain what it was he meant to say.

"What?" Jack said. "What do you swear?"

Ennis raised his head and met his husband's eyes. "To live it with you."

Jack sighed. "Good. It's about damned time."

They sat there in the morning sunlight, looking at each other, for a few peaceful moments. Too few for Ennis's taste, but he had things to take care of. "And now, I'm afraid I got something I gotta do. But I'll be back soon, then we'll get you outta here." He stood up.

Jack looked up at him, a worried look on his face. "Ennis...you ain't gonna..."

"I'm gonna take care of it, Jack."

"Now, wait jus' a second...you said you'd never leave me again, 'n that _includes_ goin' t'prison!"

"I ain't goin' t'prison. I'll tell you all 'bout it when I get back. Jus' trust me, okay?" Jack nodded, the worried look still on his face, and Ennis left the hospital, his face turning stony as he went to his truck.

* * *

According to his information, the only people who ought to be at Forrester's restaurant at this hour were a few prep cooks, the hostess and Forrester himself, who'd be in his office behind the dining room. A few fifty-dollar bills across the palms of the prep cooks had guaranteed their absence. Ennis had it all worked out how he'd get the hostess out of the dining room quickly and silently, but it didn't matter. When he walked in, she took one look at him and practically sprinted out the door.

Ennis stood there quietly for a moment, psyching himself up. He was about to face this man, and he had to make damn sure he kept calm and didn't lose his cool. He was also about to string more words together in a row than he probably had his entire life. He'd spent most of the previous night rehearsing it in his head. He just hoped he didn't start stammering, he'd look like a damn fool and that would seriously undermine the impact.

He walked to the man's office. The door was open; Ennis peered around the doorframe. Forrester was standing with his back to the door, filing something. Perfect.

Ennis entered and silently shut the door behind him, turning the deadbolt. Forrester didn't appear to have heard him enter. He took the shotgun off his shoulder and racked the slide, the extremely satisfying click-CLACK of its action bringing a grim little smile to his face. Forrester jumped and whirled around, conditioned, as most moviegoing Americans were, to regard that noise as a precursor to certain death.

Forrester saw who it was and his lip curled. He was pressing himself back against the filing cabinet, as if that would help. "Del Mar," he spat. "I might've known. What, you come here to kill me? Then you'll go to prison. Maybe that's what you want...all those convicts turning queer out of desperation."

"I ain't here t'kill you," Ennis said. He took a step closer, holding the shotgun in front of him. "Naw, I cain't go t'prison. I got responsibilities. But know this...if Jack had died, your guts'd already be splattered all over that wall. Him dead, and I wouldn't care what happened t'me. Glad t'say that ain't the case."

"What then? Beat me up? Work me over, or however you put it?"

Ennis shook his head. "Is that the only thing you understand? Violence? Some fists and a two-by-four?" He sighed. "That's jus' sad. I used t'be like that, y'know. I'd throw down at the drop of a hat. But see, mos' men, we grow outta that shit when we get our heads together. I guess you got a ways t'go."

Forrester, perceiving that Ennis meant no violence, sat down in his office chair. "Then I have nothing to say to you, except that you are trespassing and if you don't leave I'll call the sheriff."

"Go ahead. By the time he gets here, I'll have said m'piece anyway."

"I'm not responsible for your..._friend's_...injuries."

"'O course you are. We just cain't prove it. It is funny, though. If'n you're doin' God's good works by trouncing all us fags, I'd think you'd be proud. I'd think you'd want t'own up. I guess you ain't too keen on that whole 'blessed is he who is persecuted for righteousness' thing."

"I've done nothing illegal."

"Good 't know. In that case, Mr. Forrester, you just go on about your business. It's a free country, and we're a tolerant bunch. You go on ahead 'n have your little church meetings. You're free t'think what you like, 'n you're free t'say what you like." He paused for effect. "'O course, you'll have t'find a new place t'live."

Forrester frowned. "What?"

Ennis pulled a bundle of envelopes out of his pocket. "Few folks asked me t'deliver these here notices to you, seein' as I was stoppin' by. Look here!" he said, holding up one of the envelopes. "This one's from the First Bank 'O Vermont. I'm guessin' it's t'let y'know that the bank's recallin' your home loan. Seems they found out about your two bankrupt businesses back in Kansas."

"They can't do that! They can't..."

"You ain't the only one with rights. They c'n give their money to whom they see fit, and they don't see fit t'give it t'you. Oh, wait...here's another one." Ennis opened the envelope, shaking his head and making tsk-tsk noises. "Aw, that's too bad. Looks like the county revoked your liquor license. That's what, fifty percent of this place's profit? Oh, and you're also gonna have t'find a new place t'have your little hate-monger meetins', 'cause you've violatin' several city codes by having more'n seven cars parked at a residence more 'n once a month. It's a hefty fine, too."

Forrester was now purple, and shaking with rage. "You can't do this to me. I am a law-abiding citizen, and I have rights!"

"I'm a law-abidin' citizen too. And who says I'm doin' anythin'? Seems like it's the bank, the county board, and the city council you got a problem with." He smiled. "'O course, the fact that the loan officer at your bank, two 'o the county supervisors 'n jus' about all the city councillors are good friends of ours, that's irrelevant. Each one 'o these actions is perfectly legal and legitimate." He took another step closer and fixed the man with the most serious glare he could muster. "You think on it, you son of a bitch. You c'n stay here, and no one c'n stop you. But we c'n make life real uncomfortable for you, 'n make no mistake. We will. We don't want you here, so you gotta ask yourself if it's worth it." Forrester said nothing. "Nothin' t'say? No retorts? Gimme somethin', Stan. I ain't used t'talking like this. I practiced this speech all night. Leas' you could do is say somethin'."

"You...you goddamned faggot."

Ennis heaved a sad sigh. "Always seems t'come back t'that, don't it? Well, I guess we're done here. You jus' think on what I said. Folks in this town're decent, and they're our friends. We c'n make your life miserable and there ain't no one who'll defend you. You might think on this, too...the reason I c'n do this is because when I came here, I made friends 'stead 'o enemies." He laid the shotgun on the desk and leaned forward. Forrester leaned back. "Now, you piece of shit. I'd like you t'thank me for not doin' what I so badly wanna do, which is beat you to a bloody pulp 'n hurt you till you beg for Jack's forgiveness." Forrester just stared at him. "Go on. Say thank you."

"Uh...thank you."

"Good. I always thought you was just a spineless weasel under all that bluster. S'nice t'be right." He straightened up and slung the shotgun across his shoulder again. "Now, if you'll excuse me, I got things t'do. I'm gonna go to the hospital and take my husband home. Then you know what I'm gonna do?" Forrester shook his head, still mute. "I'm gonna have a whole bunch 'o sex with him. Y'know why? 'Cause I love him, 'n there ain't nothin' you c'n do about it." He opened the door. "You have a nice day, now."

"You and your kind will rot in hell," Forrester barked.

Ennis nodded. "Well, if you're goin' t'heaven, then I don't wanna be there." He slammed the door behind him as he left, smiling, the empty shotgun in the crook of his elbow.


	20. Chapter 19

**A/N:** _Sorry no chapter yesterday. I had a busy day and evening, I couldn't start this chapter until after midnight and I did most of the work today._

_Okay, enough angst for the time being. How about a nice lovey-dovey, sexy chapter? Y'all have been so patient with me and my t00by pathos._

_This chapter was HARD. Well over half of it is just pure, plot-free, Jack & Ennis gooshiness, and you know how I dread going overboard with it. I tried to write it so you didn't have to dive for the insulin when you're done._

_

* * *

_

"Watcher step there, now..."

"I c'n walk up fuckin' _stairs_, Ennis."

"Here, take my arm."

"For God's sake, quit hoverin'! You're gettin' on my nerves!"

"I'm jus' tryin' t'help."

"I don' need no help. It's my head, not my legs."

"What if you trip 'n fall 'n bust it wide open again?"

"What if a giant meteor falls from the sky 'n crushes us both?" Jack exclaimed, having successfully reached the top of the porch stairs without incident.

Ennis shot him an exasperated look as he went past him into the house. "Well, at leas' I wouldn' have t'put up with your bellyachin' no more."

Jack followed him in. "Oh, that's nice, just when..." He stopped short. "Holy Christ," he muttered. There were flowers everywhere. He could see six or seven arrangements in the living room alone, on every available surface.

Ennis was looking at the cards. "This one's from Fred 'n Arlene," he said. "And this one's from the mayor! Well shit, that's awful nice 'o him."

"Are all these for me?" Jack said, wonderingly.

Ennis shot him a look. "Anyone else 'n this house been in the hospital lately?"

Marianne came out of the kitchen, smiling, and hurried over to embrace Jack. "Welcome home," she said. "I'm making your favorite dinner."

Jack could smell it. His mouth was already watering. "Pot roast?"

"You bet."

Ennis was still looking at the cards. "These're from Gus 'n Nora...hey, this one's from Councilman Cooper!" He returned to Jack's side, looking around with a shamefaced expression. "Now I kinda feel bad I didn't get you none."

"You ain't the flower type, cowboy." Jack smiled. "Besides, you gave me somethin' better."

Ennis returned the smile and leaned in to kiss him. "Now, will y'sit yourself down? Lemme get you some tea or somethin'."

Jack sat down, rolling his eyes. "You c'n stop treatin' me like my head's gonna fall off at any time, y'know. I'm _okay._" Jack rubbed his temple. His head did hurt, and even the prescribed painkillers only took the edge off. Ennis sat down next to him and took his hand, lacing their fingers together. Jack let his head fall to Ennis's shoulder and closed his eyes. "I do feel a mite woozy, though."

"Then you just rest yourself."

Jack sighed, contentment spreading through him. "Did you call Junior?"

"Yep. Last night. Lizzie, too. Both of 'em sends their love 'n wants you t'call when y'feel up to it." Jack wanted to ask, but he didn't dare. Happily, Ennis seemed to read his mind. "I called Lureen, too."

"Y'didn't have t'do that," Jack said, quietly.

"I thought she'd want t'know. Anyhow, ain't that behind us?"

"I sure hope so."

"And I called your folks."

Jack sniffed. "The old man actually took the call?"

"Your ma answered, or else I wouldn'ta got two words out. I lef' out the details. I jus' said you'd had an accident, but you was okay." Jack felt Ennis hesitate. "Your ma sends her love."

Jack knew what was coming. "Ennis, we been over it 'n over it..."

"It ain't her fault your pa's such a bastard. She'd love t'see you."

"I ain't settin' foot in that house again. Not after what he done."

"We c'd wait till he left, then go see her..."

"He don't never leave! He's like the fuckin' Buddha, he jus' sits there 'n waits for Armageddon!" Jack sighed. "I know you think my ma's some kinda saint just 'cause she don't denounce us as doomed sinners, but she never stuck up for me nor tried t'stop him from doin' what he done t'me, or what he done t'you."

"He didn't do nothin' t'me. Damn, but you overreact sometimes. He wasn't really tryin' t'hit me."

"I ain't so sure. He's a lousy fuckin' shot. Ten yards wide wouldn't surprise me none."

"My folks is dead, Jack. I don't got no regrets 'bout my dad but I miss my mom sometimes. I jus' think it's a shame, you got two parents livin' 'n you never..."

"I don' wanna talk 'bout this no more."

He felt Ennis sigh. "All right, darlin'." Jack felt him turn his head, then Ennis's lips in his hair. He smiled a little. "I'm jus' glad t'have y'home safe."

"I'm glad t'be here."

Ennis disentangled himself and stood up facing him, holding out his hand to pull Jack up off the couch. "We got some business t'take care of."

"We do?" Jack said. Ennis was leading him down the hall to their bedroom.

"I made a promise t'that bastard Forrester, 'n I aim t'keep it." He shut the bedroom door behind him, then pushed Jack up against it and kissed him deeply, planting his hands on either side of Jack's head. Jack grabbed Ennis by the shirt and yanked him closer, his lips wanting to grin but prevented from doing so by Ennis's tongue in his mouth. Ennis pulled back.

"Damn. What kinda promise'd you make?"

"I told him I was gonna bring you home 'n then have a whole bunch 'o sex with you, 'n there wasn't nothin' he c'd do t'stop me."

Jack was almost too stunned to reply. "You _told_ him that?"

Ennis nodded, a self-satisfied half-smile on his face. "You're goddamned right I did. And that ain't all I told him. I'll tell y'all about it. Later." He leaned forward and buried his face in Jack's neck, his lips and teeth worshiping the skin and muscles there, his hands going to Jack's buttons. Jack's head fell back against the door with a thunk.

"I cain't b'lieve y'wanna fuck me _now_," Jack murmured, his hand rising to tangle in Ennis's hair. "Marianne's in the house..."

"Big fuckin' deal," Ennis muttered, pulling Jack's shirt off as Jack's fingers started in on _his_ buttons. "She ain't stupid. She knows we do this. Besides, she's way over in the kitchen. Who cares?"

"Who cares? Well, you _used_ to..."

"Lots 'o things I used t'do," Ennis said, pulling back and drawing Jack forward to the bed by his hands inside Jack's waistband. Jack let himself be pulled along without resistance. Ennis whipped Jack's belt out of its loops, grabbed his hips and yanked him tight against him. "And lots 'o things I didn't used t'do. I didn't used t'tell you that sometimes jus' lookin' at you gets me hard."

Jack grinned. "You doin' a bit more 'n lookin' now, stud."

"And I aim t'do even more 'n that." Ennis turned him around, his hands busily undoing Jack's fly and shoving his jeans down to his knees, then pushed him down on the bed. Jack watched in amazement as Ennis knelt in front of him. "You gotta stopwatch?" Ennis said, winking.

Whatever smartass answer Jack would have offered turned into a groan as Ennis ducked his head down and took him in his mouth. Jack leaned back onto the bed, fighting to keep his eyes from closing because he wanted to be able to _see_ Ennis's head buried in his groin, he wanted to _watch._ "One thousand one…one thousand two…" he moaned. Ennis chuckled around him, the movement driving all thoughts of timekeeping out of Jack's mind. The effort soon became irrelevant as Ennis left that five-second mark well in the dust.

* * *

Jack wondered what Lizzie's apartment looked like. She'd once described it to him as sterile. He wasn't rightly sure what that meant. All his mind could imagine were some glass-walled rooms with white furniture and chrome coffee tables like in "2001: A Space Odyssey." He doubted that was what she'd meant. Still, he wished he could imagine her there as he heard the phone ringing and pictured her walking to answer it.

"Hello?"

Jack smiled to hear her voice. It was the first time they'd spoken since that morning she'd left, that awful morning of shirts and departures. "Howdy, swee'pea," he said.

"Jack!" she exclaimed, sounding relieved. "Are you home?"

"Yep. This mornin'."

"Are you okay? Ennis didn't tell me much."

"I'm fine. Gotta helluva bruise on my head 'n a few t'match elsewheres, but I'll mend up in a few days."

"I can't believe such a thing could happen in Farmingdale," she said. She sounded a little choked up.

"Wasn't the town, it was that sonofabitch Forrester," Jack said.

"What's being done about it?"

Ennis had recounted his conversation with Forrester after their impromptu afternoon bed-romp. Jack had pictured Ennis in Forrester's office, his unloaded shotgun held over his shoulder for effect, reducing the man to a submissive lump of quivering flesh with his flinty stare and his gravelly voice. Ennis had chuckled over his parting shot to Forrester, but Jack had been too turned on to laugh about it. "My fuckin' hero," he'd growled, grabbing Ennis and pulling him over on top of him. "For that, you get t'have your way with me." Ennis had taken him up on the offer with gusto. Despite Jack's occasional discomfort with playing the so-called "feminine" role, sometimes the rewards of letting Ennis be the manly man were well worth it.

But that probably wasn't what Lizzie wanted to know. "Well," Jack said, "the sheriff cain't charge him, 'cause he ain't got enough evidence that Forrester arranged the attack. But Ennis went 'n paid him a little visit."

"Oh no, he didn't…"

"Naw. Didn't touch him. But he made it real clear that he ain't welcome, and that folks around here c'd make his life real uncomfortable. I think he got the message. We'll see."

"Is everything okay between you and Ennis?" Lizzie asked. Jack smiled at her typical directness.

"Yeah. Had a real bad few days, there. But we're back t'normal now. Better, even." He hesitated. "He asked me for a ring, Lizzie," he said, smiling again at the thought of it.

"He did?"

"Sure did. And I gotta say…he's been different. He kissed me right in front 'o the nurse this mornin'. He ain't holdin' back like he used t'do."

"Maybe he's tired of being afraid of what people might think or do."

"I ain't gonna question it. I just wonder how long it'll last." He cleared his throat. "How're you? How's the city?"

He heard her sigh. "Honestly, it's hell. I feel like I'm in prison."

Jack didn't know what to say. "I expect it'll feel normal again soon. Give it time." Lizzie said nothing. "How's Charlie?"

She let out a harsh laugh that sounded more like a choke. "Oh, he's just brilliant. Didn't even bother to make sure all his girlfriend's underwear was out of the apartment before I got back. I've barely seen him."

Jack shook his head. "Ain't right, swee'pea. Special girl like you, he ain't worthy. I've half a mind to…"

"He isn't so bad. I have been kind of focusing on the negative recently." Her voice got quiet. "I guess living with you and Ennis, and hanging out with Fred and Arlene, well…it just made me see what I don't have." She sighed. "I don't know what I'm doing. I've thought of leaving him, but…it's all so exhausting. This is his place, I'd have to get one of my own, and I'd still have to see him at work, and…that probably sounds incredibly stupid to you."

"Naw, it don't. Practicality ain't nothin'. It's like inertia. Hell, that's part 'o what kep' me 'n Ennis with our wives for so long." Jack twisted the phone cord around his fingers. "Well, we miss you, Lizzie."

"I miss you guys, too."

"Think you c'n come up for a visit soon?"

"I don't know. I hope so."

"How's that book comin' along?"

She hesitated for too long before answering. "I don't know where I'm going with it, to tell you the truth."

"Well…you'll figure it out."

"I'm so glad you're okay, Jack. I was worried."

"I'm jus' fine. Takes more 'n a few goons in a parkin' lot t'get me down."

"Give Ennis a kiss for me."

"With pleasure."

"Bye, Jack."

"Bye, Lizzie." He hung up, frowning at the phone.

Ennis walked in, looking around with an irritated expression on his face. "Jack, you seen my glasses? I coulda swore that I…" He paused, seeing Jack's face. "What's wrong?"

"Jus' talked t'Lizzie."

"And?"

"I dunno. She don't sound too happy t'be back in the city. And that asshole husband 'o hers…"

"You ain't never met the man. Not that I'm disagreein', I'm just sayin' we makin' judgments awful quick."

Jack shrugged. "I guess her personal life ain't none of our business. And no, I ain't seen your fuckin' glasses. I swear, I'm gonna put 'em on a chain round your neck one 'o these days."

"They're prob'ly in the bedroom. C'mon, dinner's ready. Reckon we both c'd use some protein after the afternoon we had."

* * *

Jack had, on more than one occasion, asked Ennis what his favorite position was. Ennis had never had a good answer for him. Seemed like every position became his favorite while they were in it.

But now, he thought he might really and truly have found the winner. It was just so damn fine to see Jack as he was now, his torso rising off the bed, the moonlight silvering his skin and outlining every muscle in shadow. Although he usually favored having more control of things, Ennis was quite happy to be underneath him, buried inside him as Jack leaned back, his hands braced on Ennis's thighs, his neck arched as if offering his jugular as a sacrifice. Ennis hung on to Jack's ass as he rocked his hips back and forth, grinding himself down onto Ennis's shaft, the grip and squeeze of it making Ennis's throat convulse and his jaw tighten till his temples ached. He watched the muscles in Jack's stomach roll and clench with the motion of his hips.

That urge to control coming upon him again, Ennis pulled up his knees and braced his feet so he could thrust upwards, pitching Jack forward a little. Jack moved his hands from Ennis's thighs; Ennis let go of his ass and laced his fingers through Jack's, settling his elbows on the mattress so Jack could lean on his hands. Jack's head fell forward and a helpless groan escaped him. "Y'like that, baby?" Ennis murmured.

Jack grinned and released Ennis's hands. He leaned forward to lie against Ennis's chest and kiss him. "Sure is more fun t'ride you than any 'o them bulls, lover," he whispered. Ennis wrapped his arms around him, arousal and liberated joy mingling inside him and swelling in his breast. "Leas' I know you ain't gonna throw me off," Jack said, chuckling against his mouth.

Ennis kissed him hard, grabbing at Jack's lips with his own. "I c'n sure's hell try," he growled, redoubling his efforts. Jack's breath hitched, ecstatic grunts and gasps escaping him, his head dropping to Ennis's shoulder. Ennis grinned, victorious, as Jack gave a yell and Ennis felt the warmth of his climax bloom between their bodies. He shut his eyes and let Jack's pleasure lead him to his own, his legs shaking with the effort he'd just put forth as he let them sag down to the bed again.

He exhaled as Jack rolled off him, staying close tucked against his side, one arm across Ennis's chest. A light dew of perspiration shone in the center of his chest; he felt dampness under his fingers as they combed through Jack's hair. "Damn," Jack finally breathed. "Is that what they mean by 'rode hard 'n put away wet?'"

Ennis laughed, full from his belly, surprised into it. Jack joined in, his shoulders shaking under Ennis's arm. "Maybe so, but I ain't puttin' you away yet," Ennis said, once his laughter had died down. He turned on his side to face him. Jack laid his hand on Ennis's face. "Got somethin' y'might like t'know."

"What?"

"The whole time we were apart, when I was up at Dave's, 'n then when you was in the hospital?"

"Yeah?"

"I didn't have one cigarette."

Jack smiled. "And how did it go?"

"It fuckin' sucked. But I figured, if I c'd resist while I was so stressed out, I c'd resist anytime."

"Good. I'm glad t'hear that." He sighed. "That means a lot t'me."

"Well…I know it's important t'you, so it's important t'me."

"I jus' want you around for a real long time."

If Ennis had been a different man, he might have been able to tell Jack that he wanted to be around for a long time, too. That the idea of spending the rest of his life here, with him, made him want to live to be a hundred and then die an old, old man, hopefully in Jack's arms, at the same moment that Jack himself died so that neither of them would be left alone to grieve. If he'd been the man he sometimes wished he was, he could have artfully and poetically expressed himself to Jack, but in this he was inadequate. He kept finding new depths to the wells of feeling inside of himself, wells he'd been brought up to cap over and ignore, but the deeper he dove, the less he was able to describe what he found. All he could hope to do was live so that Jack would somehow know.

But now he couldn't think about much else except the fact that Jack was kissing him, and pressing himself closer, and that his well-exercised nether regions were, apparently, still up for the challenge. "Hey," Jack murmured, moving down to Ennis's neck. "How much sex is a 'whole bunch,' anyway?"

"I dunno."

"Hmm. Well, I don' think we're there quite yet." Ennis chuckled as Jack clambered over him again. "We don' wanna disappoint good old Stan now, do we?"

"Oh, y'know that'd just break my heart."

* * *

Jack had never told him so, but when they had sex, sometimes Ennis got this look on his face like he'd forgotten who he was. The first time Jack had seen it was on Brokeback. That second night, the night that had gone beyond Jack's wildest hopes or imaginings. Once Ennis let himself be taken away, a remarkable look of peace and need had come over his face. He'd looked like he'd found another version of himself, one that fit, one that felt natural.

Jack lived for the moments when he could make Ennis look like that. Didn't happen all the time, but often enough. Sometimes he wondered what _he_ looked like in those moments. Was there some look that Ennis always tried to get onto _his_ face?

At the moment, he didn't much care, because Ennis had that look. That outside-himself look that Jack knew no one else had ever seen. Eyes closed, mouth open, his features lying alongside each other without the chafe of everyday expression. Jack watched that face intently as he lay between Ennis's legs, propped on his elbows, riding and surging with their movements like a buoy on the tide. He wasn't inside him. He'd had him that way once already today and he knew that it wouldn't be comfortable for him again so soon; he just wasn't used to it as Jack was. So they were just lying here, tightly laced together, moving slowly in a way that Jack knew from experience would soon have them both breathing fast and pressing harder into each other. Of all the ways they'd experienced each other, it was this act that, paradoxically, felt the most intimate to Jack. It was so physical, so intensely tactile. They were skin to skin almost from head to toe, twined around each other like climbing vines, straining to get closer, always closer, and achieve that sense of joining without the crutch of penetration to help them get there. The end would come, not with grunts and yells and thrusts and sweat, but with sighs and whispers and a sliding, warm kind of release that would bear their names on each other's breaths. It was this kind of sex, not their more intense, energetic couplings, that made Jack feel like he could see through Ennis's eyes and find his own image there.

He nestled his face into Ennis's warm, damp neck, held close by Ennis's arms and legs wrapped around him, and sealed his mouth over the pulse point under Ennis's jawline. He felt his body climbing higher, straining for that point of release. "Jack," he felt Ennis say, more a puff of air against his ear than a spoken word. He sucked harder on Ennis's neck, feeling Ennis's heartbeat racing under his lips, and then he felt Ennis shudder and his fingers dug into Jack's shoulders. Ennis exhaled and relaxed, and then Jack was there with him, slipping over the crest and muffling a groan against Ennis's throat.

"Jesus Christ," Ennis moaned. Sensing that he needed some air, Jack rolled away and lay next to him, panting. Ennis turned to look at him. "We ain't gone three times in a row since we was twenty-five 'n bangin' each other in a tent," he said, a smirk twisting his mouth. "What'd Marianne put in that pot roast, anyway?"

"Ain't the pot roast. Cain't y'jus' admit that you find me irresistible?"

Ennis turned on his side and propped his head on his elbow. "You're awful pleased with y'self."

"Got you off three times in a row, didn't I?"

"I got _you_ off three times too, y'know."

"Then _you_ ought be pleased with y'self." He reached out and ran one finger down Ennis's cheek. "You handsome devil." Ennis flushed and fidgeted. It amused Jack to no end how self-conscious he got when Jack paid him a compliment.

Ennis folded his arm beneath his head. "So, when do I get my ring?" he said.

Jack mimiced his posture, so their heads were level on the pillows. "Well, I been thinkin' 'bout that."

"Yeah?"

"What if we really did it?"

"Did what?"

"Got married."

Ennis frowned. "Ain't legal. Not unless you got a time machine that'll take us t'some year in the future when folks got some sense."

"So what if it ain't legal? We c'd still do it. I bet Father Mike'd do it."

Ennis was still frowning. "Y'mean…have some kinda ceremony? Walk up the aisle wearin' matchin' suits?"

Hearing it put that way made Jack match Ennis's frown. "Didn't think of it like that. You're right, that ain't us."

"I hope not."

"But it don't gotta be like that t'mean somethin', right?"

"I ain't followin' you."

Jack sighed. "Listen. When I was a kid, my teachers used t'talk about the pioneers what come from out East, and how they didn't have nothin' but what they brought with, could grow or make. She told us about how they didn't have no doctors, or preachers, or lawmen." He took a deep breath. "A kid asked her how folks got married without no preachers. She said that they decided if there wasn't nobody that could marry 'em, that it was okay for people to marry each other through…how'd she put it? Sincere mutual agreement. They'd go to some place that was sacred to 'em and make their promises, and then everybody'd agree that they were married."

Ennis was watching his face. He didn't speak for a few long moments. "That what you want?" he finally said, quietly.

"I wanna know what _you_ want."

He smiled slowly. "Yeah, that's what I want. Let's do that. Y'say we need some kind 'o sacred place?"

"Brokeback?"

"Naw. That's the past. That ain't right. That's for rememberin', not swearin'."

"Okay. What about the cabin? Or the high meadow?"

"Y'know what, Jack?"

"What?"

Ennis sighed. "Ain't no place more sacred t'me than right here. Our bed, in our house, the house you 'n me built." Jack said nothing. Ennis's brows drew in, as if he were afraid he'd said the wrong thing. "Unless that sounds simple 'n stupid."

"No," Jack choked out. "You…jus' wait right there. Don' move."

* * *

Ennis watched Jack leave the bedroom, bare-ass naked, looking white as a ghost in the moonlight. He jumped out of bed and went into the bathroom, pausing to open the windows on his way. _Damn bedroom smells like sex,_ he thought. He looked at himself in the mirror.

_What a sight you are, Del Mar. Y'about t'get hitched 'n you look all debauched._ His hair was sticking up, his face ruddy with stubble-burn, and a purple suck mark had risen up underneath his jawline.

He heard Jack's footsteps returning from the office. "Ennis?"

"In here."

Jack joined him in the bathroom. "Didn' I tell you not t'move? What're you doin'?"

"Takin' a shower. If I'm doin' this, I ain't doin' it with spunk all over me. C'mon, get in here. You're takin' one too. And you gave me a fuckin' hickey, asshole! I look like a goddamn vampire's been eatin' on me!"

They ended up changing the sheets, too. _Fine sight we mus' make,_ Ennis thought. _Coupla grown men makin' the bed, stark naked, at three in the mornin'._

Ennis got in bed again, the fresh sheets feeling cool against his skin. He felt nervous, for some reason. He didn't quite know what to do. He just sat upright, legs stuck out in front of him, waiting for Jack to hand-hold him through this as he did everything to do with their relationship.

Jack just looked at him for a minute. He took his ring off his hand and handed it to Ennis, then took Ennis's ring out of the little black bag he'd fetched from his office. He got on the bed and sat facing Ennis, cross-legged. He frowned. "Nope. Too far away." He scootched closer, uncrossing his legs and resting them over the tops of Ennis's thighs so they were sitting chest-to-chest. Ennis stared at the ring he'd had made for Jack so many years ago.

"Now what?" he said.

"I dunno. D'you wanna say somethin'?"

He did. Ennis desperately wanted to say something. Something meaningful and profound that would seal everything for all time, something that would warm Jack's heart fifty years from now because it was so moving that he would remember it word for word for the rest of his life. He wished he was a poet, or a writer, or even a damn country singer. Somebody who knew about words and could just reach out and pluck the right ones out of the air and give them that spin of truth and sincerity. His eyes filled with tears of frustration that he couldn't do this one thing, he couldn't manage to say the kind of words this man deserved to hear, this man who'd waited for him and nagged at him and dragged him, kicking and screaming, into a life he never dreamed he'd ever have, this man who'd all but bullied him into happiness. "I wanna say somethin' t'you, Jack…but I don't know how," he finally admitted. His tears spilled down his cheeks.

Jack was smiling. "It's okay," he said. "You're sayin' it with the look on your face."

Ennis sniffed and palmed the tears off his face, then picked up Jack's left hand. "I guess I oughta promise t'be a good husband," he said.

"Y'already are."

"I think we got that 'better or worse' stuff covered."

"Let's not have any more 'worse' for at least a few weeks, okay?"

"Am I missin' anythin'? I only done this once, and I was so nervous I cain't remember shit."

Jack sighed. "Till death do us part?"

Ennis nodded, that image of himself dying in Jack's arms recurring to him. "Right," he said, his tone subdued. The subject hit a little too close to home for his taste right then. The memory of Jack lying unconscious in his hospital bed was too fresh and painful. He couldn't bear to repeat the words. He started to slide the ring onto Jack's finger, but paused halfway down.

"What?" Jack said.

Ennis looked up and met his eyes. For all the things he wanted to say but couldn't, one would have to substitute. "I love you, Jack." Jack nodded, and Ennis slid the ring home. It fit neatly into the narrow band of paler, indented flesh that it had left behind when Jack took it off. Ennis felt suddenly jealous of that band of flesh, and wondered how long it would be before he had a ring-shadow of his own to match Jack's.

Jack took a deep breath, and picked up Ennis's left hand. "Well, I promise t'be a good husband, too."

"That'll be a nice change."

Jack smacked his shoulder. "I'm bein' heartfelt, asshole. Didja hear me makin' fun 'o _you?_"

"I'm sorry, you're right. Go ahead."

He took a deep breath. "I'll be true 'n faithful." He flicked his eyes up to Ennis's, and Ennis saw in that glance another apology for Lureen, one he didn't need but still appreciated. "Sickness, health, honor 'n cherish, all that stuff. I ain't gonna swear t'obey, though."

"Wouldn't ask y'to."

"Well, not unless we're doin' that thing when I'm the naughty stable boy 'n you're the strict stock boss…"

"Shush, this is s'posed t'be serious!"

"Right, sorry." Jack cleared his throat. "Thing is, Ennis, I jus'…" He looked away for a moment, and Ennis saw his throat working. "I can hardly b'lieve we're doin' this, that you wanted it. You wanted _us._" He forced a shaky smile. "I love you, cowboy." He slid the ring onto Ennis's finger.

Ennis looked at his hand, the ring gleaming and looking right at home on his finger. "I been missin' that," he murmured, turning it around a few times. He turned back to Jack. "So…what? Is that it?"

"Unless you wanna go outside 'n let me carry you over the threshold, I guess so."

"We're married, then?"

Jack sighed. "As much as we can be. I don't know if we are any more than we were before."

"I feel like we are."

"Me, too." Jack smiled. "And we'll have t'make do with it 'till such time as the state says they're gonna honor us with their almighty blessin'," he said, bitter sarcasm lacing his tone.

"I wonder," Ennis said, still staring down at his new ring.

"What d'you wonder, darlin'?"

"If we'll live to see it."

"I bet so." He nudged Ennis's arm. "Hey. There is one thing we forgot."

Ennis looked up. "What's that?"

"Ain't we s'posed t'kiss?"

"You ain't had enough kissin' for one night? My lips feel swelled up like a bee stung 'em."

"Humor me."

Ennis feigned a long-suffering sigh and kissed him, sliding his arms around Jack's waist. "There. Happy?"

"Very," Jack said, his own arms going around Ennis's chest. "But I ain't takin' your name, y'know."

"Good, I ain't takin' yours, neither."

"It's a shame, though."

"What's a shame?"

"I'm too spent t'consummate."

"God, me too. Let's jus' get some sleep, we gonna be wrecked enough in the mornin' as it is." They disentangled from each other and stretched out on their respective sides. Ennis curled on his side facing away from Jack, his left hand feeling heavy and newly-adorned. "G'night, baby," he murmured.

"G'night, Ennis. Sweet dreams."

Ennis felt sleep hurrying to catch up with him, having been put off for far too long already. He didn't think he'd have any trouble conjuring some sweet dreams this night.

* * *

**Post-script:**_Ok. I spent some time thinking about whether I did or did not want Jack and Ennis to decide they wanted to make some kind of concrete commitment ceremony, prompted by Ennis's request for a ring. I worried that I'd covered that ground back in chapter 4 when Ennis gave Jack the ring in the first place, and they signed their power-of-attorney agreements. What I came to conclude was that the chapter 4 moment was less a marriage and more of Ennis deciding that he wanted to confirm to Jack that he was invested and committed to their new life together. He didn't ask Jack for a reciprocal commitment, and it wasn't something that was particularly mutual. I decided that it would be okay for them to do what they've just done, and that furthermore, they _needed_ to do it, that it had been something they'd been missing, and that Ennis's new commitment to "living it with" Jack, voiced in the previous chapter, was just the impetus they needed._

_I'm sure you'll all let me know if it seemed extraneous!_

_Oh, by the way, I actually borrowed Jack and Ennis's entire impromptu marriage thing from a gay friend of mine (with his permission), who told me that this was how he and his husband married each other. I also borrowed the whole pioneer story from him. No idea if it's true, but if it isn't, it ought to be._


	21. Chapter 20

**A/N:** _I hope this chapter isn't too much of a letdown after the extremely angst and schmoopiness of the last few. This is very much a transitional chapter, both into the last few chapters of this story and into the next one._

_

* * *

_

Jack wafted the coffee mug under Ennis's nose. "Wakey wakey," he sing-songed. "Y'already missed breakfast. Wanna miss lunch, too?"

Ennis blinked. "Ohuh?" he gurgled, rubbing his eyes and reaching half-blindly for the coffee.

Jack, who'd been up for hours, sat on the edge of the bed. He'd come in intending to yank Ennis's chain, but his pinched face and unfocused eyes were turning his amusement into concern. "You okay?" he said, frowning. "It's almost noon. Ain't like you t'sleep this long."

Ennis tried to open his eyes, but didn't get very far. He groaned, putting his hands to his head. "Fuckin' A," he said.

Jack sighed. "You got another pounder, hoss?"

Ennis rolled onto his stomach and pulled the covers over his head, which was all the answer Jack needed. Ennis was plagued by occasional migraine headaches, which Jack privately suspected were the result of having denied his bad eyesight for so long. They didn't come often, three or four times a year on average, but when they did, he was good for nothing but lying in a dark room and throwing up every few hours.

Jack got up and pulled the shades down, drawing the curtains as well to further block out the light, plunging the room into nighttime shadow. He leaned over Ennis again. "Y'want some..." was as far as he got. Ennis made a choking noise and heaved, then suddenly half-jumped, half-fell out of bed and staggered to the bathroom. Jack waited for him to finish, wishing there was something useful he could do. He hated seeing Ennis like this, and he knew that being laid so low was terribly embarrassing to him. Ennis was so stoic that he'd once worked for three days on a fractured foot before admitting that it hurt, but these headaches completely incapacitated him. "I get bashed on the head 'n you're the one with the headache," Jack said, keeping his voice quiet, as Ennis returned to bed. An unintelligible grunt was the only reply he received as Ennis climbed back into bed. Jack sighed. "I'll check in y'later," he whispered. Another grunt.

Jack reached behind the bedside table to unplug the phone and then left the room, carefully shutting the door behind him, and returned to the kitchen, where Marianne was getting lunch ready. It was Saturday and she wouldn't normally have come over, but Jack had the feeling she was trying to look after them without being too motherly about it. "Did you get him up?" she asked.

"He's got a migraine, poor fella," Jack said.

Marianne shook her head. "There ought to be something can be done about those headaches. Can't Pete..."

"Regular aspirin don't touch 'em, nor any 'o the doc's stronger pills. Ain't nothin' Pete c'n do about it. Ennis just got t'suffer through it."

"How's _your_ head? Sure looks better."

Jack's bruise was fading to yellowy-purple at the edge, though it was still red and black at the center. The ugly tear in his scalp was filling in and healing, too. "Feels okay unless I bump it or whip m'head around real quick." He sat down at the kitchen table and Marianne handed him a reuben on a plate. He ate it morosely. Nothing tasted as good when you ate it by yourself.

Ennis didn't make a sound all day. Jack poked his head in once, but he was sleeping. It was hard not to feel a little let down after the intensely emotional night they'd just passed. He felt like they ought to be on honeymoon, and here Ennis was about as responsive as a doorstop. But, it wasn't as though Ennis had conjured the migraine intentionally, so Jack swallowed his pique and went about his day as usual.

* * *

The phone rang around eight, just as Jack had settled on the couch to start the new Stephen King. "Hello?" No sound. "Hello?" he repeated, frowning. 

"Jack," said a gruff, reluctant voice. The name was hardly a greeting and barely an acknowledgment.

Jack sat back, dumbstruck, his book falling to his side. "Dad," he said. "This is a surprise," he said, covering his shock with careful enunciation. He hadn't spoken to his father since he and Ennis had attempted to pay his parents one last visit before starting out for Vermont. It had ended disastrously, with his father standing in the door, bellowing and waving his hunting rifle while he and Ennis ran for the truck, wondering if their new life was about to be cut real damn short.

"Your ma said you got yerself hurt."

Jack harrumphed. "I'm jus' fine."

"You gettin' in trouble again?"

Jack bristled at the tone, one you might use on a sullen teenager or a young buck who just can't get his life together. It certainly wasn't one you'd use on an established businessman who'd be thirty-nine in September. "I ain't in no trouble, Dad," he said.

The old man made a vague harrumphing noise. "You...ranchin' still?"

Was this an attempt at actual conversation? Okay, he'd play along. "We're doin' real well." He wondered how much he could say about his success before his father started accusing him of boasting. "Got a nice spread. About fifteen fulltime hands on site." That piece of information would be all his father needed to hear to clue him in to the ranch's size and prosperity.

"Guess you think you're some kinda big shot, then."

Jack sighed. "I ain't no big shot. I'm jus' a workin' man, like you."

"Sounds t'me like you're the bossman now."

"Well, that's so, yes."

A long pause. "That fella still workin' with you?" he finally said, all in one breath, roughing over the words like a man driving fast over a bumpy patch in the road.

Jack felt his hackles rising again. It was a blatant attempt to bait him. His father had to know he and Ennis were still together; after all, Ennis had been the one who'd called his parents just two days before. "You know his name, Dad," he said, a hard edge coming into his voice.

"Don't care t'say it."

He was tired. He was just so tired of _dealing._ First Bobby, then Lureen, then the trouble between him and Ennis, and then Forrester. He was wrung out like a pair of jeans worn to ford a stream, hanging limply over a branch to dry, dripping on the dirt and watching a mud puddle form underneath him as his will to keep dealing leaked out of him. "Fine. Don't say it. I'll say it all. Ennis 'n me are still together, this is _our_ place. No one stones us in the streets like you said they would and we got plenty 'o friends and a real damn sweet life, damn sight better than yours ever was or ever could be, so you jus' remember that when you're sittin' in your miserable lonely house askin' God t'damn us t'hell, okay? 'Cause while you been sayin' that God would punish us, He's been busy givin' us everthin' we ever wanted!" By the end of the tirade he was really shouting. He pulled himself back, casting a guilty glance towards the hallway, hoping he hadn't disturbed Ennis. "Is that what you wanted t'hear?" he said, lowering his voice to a more civilized volume.

There was a long silence, long enough that he wondered if his father had hung up while he was yelling at him. He waited for him to unleash some disavowal or invective, but when he did speak, it was with tired resignation. "I guess y'think I deserve all that yellin'," he said.

Jack sagged. "What d'you want from me, Dad? The last time I saw you, y'took a shot at Ennis. Am I s'posed to jus' forget about that?"

He heard his father sniff. "Didn't mean no harm," he said, mostly under his breath. Jack knew it was the closest he'd get to an apology.

"Why'd you call? Seven years and nothin', and now suddenly you're callin'? I'm fuckin' exhausted. We've had a real stressful coupla weeks." It suddenly crashed into his brain like a freight train that his parents had no idea Bobby was dead. He briefly considered and then rejected the idea of telling them. They'd never even met the boy, nor hardly ever asked after him.

"Your ma was worried when your...uh, your...uh..."

He knew it wasn't politic to rub it in the old man's face, but his reserve tank of patience and discretion was down to fumes. "My _husband,_ Dad."

His father harrumphed, which turned into a coughing fit. Jack waited. "When he called 'n said you was hurt, your ma...well, she wanted t'check in."

"Then whyn't _she_ call?" At first, he only asked to get the old man's goat, but as the question left his lips, he realized that it was a legitimate one.

Another long pause. "Truth is...I thought I'd be talkin' t'him."

Jack's mouth dropped open. "You _wanted_ t'talk to Ennis? Why, so's you could cuss him out and rake him up one side 'n down t'other?"

"I jus' wanted t'see what kinda man he was!" his father suddenly exclaimed. "Or if he was a man at all! Ain't I s'posed t'wonder what kinda fella my boy's done took up the yoke with?"

Jack shut his eyes. _Don't do this to me, Dad. I jus' got to a point in my life where I'm okay with hatin' you. I'm comfortable not havin' a relationship with you. Don't you start tryin' t'reach out or make amends. I cain't take it._ "Well, don' you wonder no more. Ennis is a fine man, the finest. You know, I think you'd like him if y'weren't so goddamned bitter."

His father sighed. "Then I guess you got all the answers."

"Goodbye, Dad." Jack hung up and felt immediately guilty, which then made him berate himself for letting himself feel guilty after the hell that man had made of his childhood. Why was it, he wondered, that a man's father could always make him feel unsure and discombobulated like he was a little boy again? He sure as hell didn't _feel_ like a grown man with a life of his own, not when his father dismissed him so casually.

He stared at the phone for a few more minutes, then picked up his book again. He tried to get interested in it, but for some reason haunted cars just weren't grabbing his attention tonight. He put the book aside and turned on the TV, but Saturday night programming wasn't of the most scintillating variety.

On a normal Saturday night, he and Ennis wouldn't even be home. They'd be over at Fred and Arlene's playing poker, or sitting out on the Linebecks' back patio with a bunch of folks chowing down on Martha's barbecue, or down at the White Horse having a few beers, or seeing a movie up in Middlebury. He wished it _was_ a normal Saturday night. Not much had seemed normal of late.

At least what was on the tube was reassuringly banal. His choices included a doughy Shatner trying to be a tough cop, whatever treacly crap Disney was airing, and a coupla sitcoms, each complete with irritatingly precocious kid.

He left Shatner on (at least he had a cute partner to help the scenery) and slouched down, telling himself he'd wait and see what woman-in-peril or disease-of-the-week was featured on the nine o'clock movie.

* * *

The next thing he knew, somebody was shaking his shoulder. "Jack?" He blinked. Ennis was leaning over him, his forehead smooth and his face free of that pinched, migraine expression. "Y'fell asleep, bud. You gonna have a crick in your neck." 

Jack looked around. The TV was still on, but it was the late news. Ennis was barechested, dressed only in his pajama pants. He rubbed at his eyes. "How's your head?"

"It's good. Short one this time, thank God."

Jack sat up and tried to lift his head. A bolt of pain shot up his back, through his neck to the top of his head. He grimaced and grabbed his shoulder. "Goddamn," he grunted.

Ennis chuckled. "Serves you right for sleepin' sittin' up with yer head all cockeyed like that. C'mon." He extended a hand. Jack took it and let Ennis haul him to his feet. Ennis pushed him down the hall to the bedroom, snapping off the TV as they passed. "What were you doin', anyway?"

"I dunno. I was bored. You in bed, nothin' t'do." Jack stripped down to his shorts and went into the bathroom to brush his teeth. Ennis leaned in the doorway, arms crossed. "Tried t'read, but got distracted."

"By what?"

Jack held up a finger, finished brushing and spat. "My dad called."

Ennis blinked. "He _called?_"

"Yeah. Said he was hopin' t'talk to you. Wanted t'know what kinda man you were. And don't ask, 'cause I got no fuckin' idea what that means." He pulled on his own pajama bottoms and went around the bed to his side, trying to stretch out the knot in his shoulder. He sat down with a sigh, feeling the other side of the bed sag as Ennis got in, too.

"He upset you?" Ennis finally asked, after Jack had been sitting there on the edge of the bed, not moving, for longer than was probably normal.

"I dunno. I don't wanna think about it." He stretched out and pulled the covers up to his chest.

They just lay there for a few moments, silent and comfortable. "Hey, we gotta get goin' on Junior's bungalow," Ennis finally said. "Time's gettin' short."

"Yeah. She'll be comin' in a coupla months. Maybe..." Jack suddenly cut himself off with a sharp gasp, which became a surprised sob of shocked grief.

Ennis looked at him, his brow furrowing. "What? What's wrong?"

Jack put his hands over his face. "I jus'...I had this thought, that..." He hesitated. "Junior'll be here soon 'n maybe if Bobby times his summer visit he c'd meet her." He turned his face to Ennis's. "I forgot jus' for a second...he ain't never comin' again..." He tried to keep it together but it was too late. His eyes shut and his mouth twisted up; all at once it wasn't the pillow but Ennis's bare chest underneath his cheek and it was okay to let go because Ennis had him.

* * *

Walking into church the next morning, Jack felt like some kind of a rock star. Seemed everybody wanted to say hello, shake his hand, wish him a good morning, tell him he'd been in their prayers, offer condolences for Bobby, toss some angry words off about Forrester, have a look at his head and toss off some more angry words. 

He wished he could be giving his friends and fellow congregants more of his attention, but a good deal of it was taken up with the fact that Ennis was holding his hand. Yes, _holding his hand,_ in front of God and everybody, and acting like this was business as usual. Jack might have found that hand useful, for shaking hands and patting shoulders and gesturing, but he didn't dare let go lest he break the spell. No one else seemed to notice, but Jack could think of little else. They'd gotten out of the truck and headed for the doors as usual, but on the way Ennis had fallen into step next to him, reached out and taken his hand without comment. Jack had nearly tripped over his own feet. Ennis had sworn, as he'd put it, to live it with him, but frankly, Jack hadn't expected any seismic shifts in the bedrock that was Ennis's habitual reserve.

And it didn't end there. After the service, they had lunch out at the Refectory with the Linebecks and another couple, Dave and Sarah Gerrold, and their teenage son Hank. The Gerrolds had only been in town a year, and were still only casual acquaintances. Ennis was no more outgoing than he ever was during lunch itself, offering minimal commentary between bites, but as they moved on to coffee he leaned back against the semicircular booth, his arms up across the backs of the seats. This wasn't unusual. What _was_ unusual was that in fairly short order one of his arms migrated to Jack's shoulders. Jack kept his poker face on, holding up his end of the conversation, as if he wasn't wondering who this man was and what he'd done with Ennis.

Once the dishes were cleared and everyone was set up with coffee, Grant leaned forward, having clearly been waiting to ask. "So, Ennis. Everyone's saying that you really let Forrester have it."

Ennis sniffed. "Might've done."

"Well? What'd you say to him?"

Ennis sighed and sat forward, folding his arms on the tabletop. "I jus' told him he ain't welcome here no more. Gave him a few reasons why not."

"They're saying he lost his liquor license and his home loan," Dave Gerrold said, one eyebrow raised. "Are those two of the reasons?"

Ennis smiled. "Might be."

"Damn, I'd've loved to've been a fly on that wall," Grant said, leaning back.

"Tell me about it," Jack said.

"And you had no idea he was doing all this?" Martha asked Jack.

"I was still in the hospital. I knew he was up to somethin', though. Had that look."

"Which look?" Ennis said.

"The one that used t'frighten the sheep."

Everyone laughed except Dave and Sarah. "What sheep?" Sarah asked. "I thought you guys raised cattle."

"Ennis and Jack met herding sheep on some mountain in Wyoming," Martha said, clearly relishing having a newcomer to tell stories to. "What year was that?"

"Sixty-three," Jack said.

"You couldn'ta been more'n teenagers!" Dave said.

"We was both nineteen."

"Mom said you used to be a rodeo rider, Mr. Twist," Hank Gerrold said.

Jack laughed. "Your mom's exaggeratin' just a bit, son. I used to be a bullrider, but I wasn't too good at it. Only did it for a couple 'o years."

"But look at you now," Grant said, chuckling. "Big shot cattle ranchers."

Jack heard his father's voice saying almost those same words. "We ain't no big shots," Ennis said for him.

Martha was frowning. "Ennis...what's that?"

"What?"

She pointed to his hand. "That!"

"Oh," Ennis said, flushing. "That. Uh...well..." He glanced at Jack, who thought that the grin he was suppressing might just bust his cheeks open if he didn't let it out. "Yeah, that's new."

"Isn't it the same as...it is! Look, it's the same as Jack's!" Martha was in busybody's heaven. "You guys are all fidgety and blushing. What's going on?"

Jack sighed. "It's just somethin' we did. Between ourselves, y'know. Been a long time comin'." Ennis was nodding.

Martha smiled. "Why'd you keep it so private? You have friends who would've liked to share that, you know."

"Honest, it was kind of a spur-of-the-moment thing. It ain't like we planned it. Besides, havin' some kinda fake ceremony, well...that ain't our style."

"I know, it's just...too bad. People like celebrating happy occasions. We ought to take every opportunity to do so."

* * *

Ennis pulled into the garage. "I'm squirrely. How 'bout a ride?" 

Jack shrugged. "Okay. Let's get changed."

Changing was pleasantly interrupted when Ennis came up behind Jack, who was half-in and half-out of his pants, and pressed up against his back. "I liked it when Marty saw my ring," he said, his lips moving against Jack's neck. "Felt like I was showin' off."

"Showin' off what?"

Ennis turned him around. "That _my_ husband's finer 'n hers," he said.

Jack raised an eyebrow, inwardly delighted. "What, Grant ain't your type?"

"Ain't got no type but one," Ennis murmured, and proceeded to help Jack the rest of the way out of his clothes.

They finally managed to get to the stables and head out on their horses, racing each other around the paddocks and through the hills beyond their property, then picking their way through the evergreen woods that lay in the valleys and between the fields. "It still amazes me jus' how green it is here," Jack said. "Ain't like home."

Ennis drew up next to him. "Y'still think o' Wyoming as home?"

Jack frowned, replaying his words in his head. "Well...didn't realize it, but I guess I kinda do. Home, like the place I was born 'n raised. Not home like the place I wanna be. That's here." He took a deep breath, taking a good look around at the scenery of the valley laid out before him. "God, don't it sometimes jus' make y'wanna burst?"

"What?"

"You know..." He made a vague, sweeping gesture, wondering what he really did mean. "All of it."

Ennis smiled. "Oh, yeah. Sometimes."

"Y'know what Marty said? 'Bout our friends wantin' t'share stuff?"

"Yeah," Ennis said, his tone dubious, like he was afraid where Jack was headed with this.

"Well...what if we had a party? A big party. At the end 'o the summer, like a Labor Day party."

"Y'mean, a party for us?" Ennis asked, holding up his hand and wiggling his ring with his thumb.

"We wouldn't have t'say that's what it was for. We c'd jus' say we wanted t'have a big party 'n invite all our friends. We c'd wait till Junior gets here, so she c'd meet everbody."

Ennis seemed to be considering this. "I dunno. Thought the point 'o havin' a weddin' reception was t'get a shitload 'o gifts."

Jack laughed. "Well, if'n you wanna go register at Macy's, you go ahead. Anyways, now that we spilled it t'Marty, ain't like the whole damn town ain't gonna know the real reason we havin' it anyway."

Ennis's mouth was moving around in a way it had when he was thinking, and Jack knew he was wishing for a cigarette. "A party, huh," he said. It wasn't a question.

"After all the shit we been through, Ennis, I sure's hell feel like we deserve a fuckin' party."

Ennis chuckled. "Do I gotta wear my party dress?"

"No. But if you wanna model it for me, I ain't gonna say no."

* * *

Their high spirits were short-lived. 

When they got back to the house, Walter was waiting for them on the porch, drinking a beer. "Hope you don't mind," he said, holding up the bottle. "They were in the cooler."

Ennis and Jack exchanged a glance, then took seats. Ennis's gut was crawling around inside him like it was trying to escape, and he wondered if Forrester hadn't decided to somehow get the law after him for their little conversation. "No, help yourself," Jack was saying.

The sheriff set his beer aside and crossed his legs, regarding them thoughtfully. He wasn't in uniform. "Well, I got good news and bad news. The good news is that those boys that came after you, Jack? Well, they talked. Turns out jail time was scarier than eternal damnation. They all now corroborate what my deputy said, that Forrester put them up to it."

A fierce surge of righteous victory was rising in Ennis's throat. "So you c'n get him for assault 'n battery now, right?"

"Yep. Assault with a deadly weapon, too. But that's all gravy. The DA's issued an arrest warrant for Forrester, for attempted murder."

"Murder?" Jack said, his eyes wide.

"According to the boys, Forrester wanted one or both of you dead."

"Then why din't they have better weapons?"

"Because he wanted to be able to pass it off as a bar fight gone bad. He told them no guns or knives. Fists only, and anything they could pick up off the ground that could be a weapon of opportunity. He didn't want any proveable intent. This guy's been around the block a few times with this game, I think."

"Well, he ain't gettin' away from it this time," Ennis said. "So he's in jail, then? Or…did he make bail?"

Walter sighed. "I have the arrest warrant, and I'd be happy to serve it, if only I could find him." He paused for effect. "Seems Mr. Forrester's skipped town. His house is empty. His office is cleaned out." He fixed his eyes on Ennis. "I hear somebody might've motivated him to make himself real scarce."

Ennis felt sick to his stomach. He hadn't thought Forrester would be held accountable for anything, and he'd just wanted him far away. It had worked, and now because of it, he'd escape justice again. "Shit," he muttered.

The sheriff sighed. "I wouldn't beat myself up too much, Ennis. I'm sending this warrant out to every police department in the country. The minute he gets so much as a speeding ticket, we'll drag his sorry ass back here."

Ennis got up and turned his back, crossing his arms over his chest. _Goddamn it,_ he thought. _Try t'do the right thing, try t'take care 'o your man, and y'end up hogtied again. If you'd just waited a few days, a few lousy days, he coulda been in prison for what he done. Instead, he's out there free as a bird 'n prob'ly laughin' at you._

"Thanks for keeping us up t'date," he heard Jack saying, then the sound of Walter getting up.

"At least we're rid of him," he said.

Ennis shook his head. "_Everbody_ coulda been rid 'o him. Now he c'n start tormentin' somebody else, wherever he's gotten off to."

"Thanks for stoppin' by, Walter," Jack was saying.

"No problem. I'll see myself out," the sheriff said, then Ennis heard his boots on the patio stairs.

He felt Jack come up behind him. "You couldn'a know them boys'd talk. You was jus' tryin' t'do the right thing."

"Right thing woulda been t'let the law handle it."

"I cain't blame you for thinkin' that it wouldn't. Forrester got off for the same damn thing once before. Hell, if'n he'd gone t'trial, he mighta got off again. Y'jus' never know. Coulda got a jury full 'o folks who'd think I deserved it. At leas' he's gone now."

"Is he, though?" Ennis said, quietly. "He done started somethin', Jack. Who were them boys? Are there more? Who'd he have joinin' his little churchy group? Naw. He might be gone, but what he started…I'm guessin' we're stuck with it."

* * *

_Please feel free to visit my livejournal: madlori. Thank you to everyone who has reviewed and supported this story as it winds down and heads towards the sequel, which I am now planning. I wish I could thank everyone individually. It's been suggested that as a thank to ALL my reviewers, I might write a little extra-special scene about the Naughty Stable Boy and the Strict Stock Boss._

_I'll take that under advisement. :-)_


	22. Chapter 21

Monday morning found Ennis busier than a one-armed paperhanger. The fireworks for the Fourth of July celebration would be arriving some time that day, so he had to see to their safe storage in the barn. He and Stubbs were moving all the ranch's firearms out of the soon-to-be-demolished shed and into the lean-to next to the stable. Meanwhile, the contractor was marking spots on the grass with neon pink paint so that the crews would know where to start digging the cellar for Junior's bungalow. His job was never dull, but Ennis felt stretched particularly thin today. Sometimes it was tiring being the boss. Every time he turned around someone was calling his name, or needing his approval, or wanting his opinion, or just yakking in his face. Times like that made him miss the good old days when he was just a ranch hand taking somebody else's orders instead of handing them out; he could put his head down and do his job, not saying a word from sunup till sundown.

Jerry Carpenter, their aptly-named contractor, found him in the hay barn nailing up fireproof asbestos sheets to the walls near where the fireworks would be stored. "Wanna see the new blueprints?" he said.

Ennis stood up. "Sure." They went outside and Jerry spread the plans on the tailgate of his truck. The bungalow had been designed to resemble the house, but smaller. It would have two bedrooms on the ground floor and one in the basement. It had two bathrooms, one upstairs and one down, a nice little kitchen and a comfortable living room with its own porch. Ennis looked over the changes they'd discussed the last time he'd seen the plans. "Where's the washer 'n dryer gonna go?"

"Here," Jerry said, pointing. "There'll be a closet with folding doors built into the utility room where the water heater is." He hesitated. "It's a lot of space just for your daughter, Ennis."

"I'm tryin' t'plan ahead. She might wanna start a family here."

"What if she moves out to do that?"

"Then we'll have a helluva guest house. But she says she wants t'help run the ranch, and someday take it over once me 'n Jack retire. I think she'll wanna stay if she can."

"You still thinking of finishing the basement? For when Jack's son comes visiting?"

Ennis blinked. "Oh. You ain't heard."

"Heard what?"

"Jack's son died a week ago."

Jerry's eyes widened in shock. "Oh, no! That's terrible! Was it an accident?"

Ennis didn't feel comfortable sharing the whole story without Jack's knowledge. "Somethin' like that," he said. To his relief, Jerry didn't press him for details.

"How's Jack holding up?"

"He's doin' okay. It hits him at odd moments." He sighed. "I don't really know how t'help him."

"Yeah, that's hard. My wife's mother died last year, and I felt so helpless. All I could do was hold her while she cried it out. Turns out that's all she needed me to do."

"I guess. I jus' feel like I oughta be able t'fix it."

"Can't fix something that's broken so bad, Ennis." Jerry made a life-goes-on kind of smile and clapped Ennis on the shoulder. "Well, you give him my condolences, okay?"

"Will do, Jerry. So, when're you gonna break ground on this?"

"The crew will have that shed cleared away tomorrow. We'll break ground on Wednesday. We ought to have the cellar dug by Friday, so we can pour the foundation on Monday of next week. Sound good?"

Ennis nodded. "Sure enough."

"Then I'll be back tomorrow."

"See ya, Jerry."

Ennis was heading back into the barn when suddenly he heard his name being shouted, with some urgency. Sounded like Rod Borrickson, the stock manager. He took off running, his mind racing ahead to the likely reasons why Rod would shout for him like that. _Someone's hurt. Someone got gored or trampled or fell on a pitchfork._

When he got to the stable, someone was hurt, all right. "Oh, no," he sighed, deflating.

Chaparral was lying on her side near the doors, whining in that hurt-horse way that made your teeth ache. She was holding her hurt leg up off the ground, her eyes rolling in fear and pain, foam collecting at the corners of her mouth. Rod was shaking his head. "I was just walking her, real slow, to see how her leg would hold up, and...well, you see for yourself. It seemed okay, then something sprung and it just wouldn't hold her no more."

Ennis's heart sank. He didn't need Paul's expert medical opinion to know that this was now beyond the hope of healing for poor Chappie. Cady, who never failed to materialize when a difficult job presented itself, stepped up to Ennis's side. "I'za gwan tak'er, Mist'Ennis," he said, quietly.

"No, I'll do it," Ennis replied. Rod already had the gun ready. "Oughta be me."

"It's a shame," Rod said. "I know she was Junior's favorite."

Ennis nodded. "That she was. Junior'll understand, though. She wouldn't want her t'suffer none." He squatted by Chappie's head and petted her neck. Her breathing seemed to slow a little as he touched and spoke to her. "It's okay, girl. It ain't gonna hurt no more in a second. You was a good horse, 'n we'll all miss you." He stood up and took a step back. He saw out of the corner of his eye Rod and Cady removing their hats. He took a deep breath, cocking the rifle. He took aim and fired. The smell of gunpowder and blood filled the stable. He handed the gun back to Rod. "You guys..."

Rod nodded. "We'll take care of it."

"Good." Ennis trudged back towards the house, feeling far too tired for a day that hadn't even made it to noon yet. Poor Junior would be heartbroken, not only that her favorite horse had to be put down, but that she couldn'tve been there to say goodbye. Ennis knew she'd understand. Junior wasn't overly sentimental, and knew well the realities of ranch life. Still, she'd shed a tear, and he didn't relish having been the indirect cause of it.

He went inside. The sad duty he'd just performed made him want to talk to Jack. That'd cheer him up.

* * *

Jack painted White-Out over a mistake he'd just made in the ledger, thinking again of buying a computer for the office. Paul had one, and so did Fred, and it was becoming achingly clear that he'd have to get one eventually. Might as well get in on the ground floor and start acclimating himself to the infernal machines.

Ennis came into the office, smelling of cordite, a hangdog expression on his face. Jack frowned. "What's wrong?"

He stood by Jack's desk for a moment. "I just had t'put Chappie down," he said.

Jack's heart sank. "Aw, shit," he said, reaching out for Ennis's hand. "Ain't that a shame. I thought she was doin' okay."

Ennis squeezed his hand for a moment, then let go and sat down in the wing chair across the room, crossing his ankle over his knee and rubbing at his eyes. "We thought she was, too. Rod was takin' her out for a walk 'n somethin' gave. Her tendon prob'ly tore. Ain't nothin c'n be done. Poor thing was jus' in agony, you c'd see it in her eyes."

"Then what you done was a mercy."

"I know. It's jus' sad. Junior'll be crushed."

"Once she gets here, we c'n take her over t'Adam's and pick out a new horse for her."

Ennis nodded, idly rubbing his thumb over rivets on the chair's upholstery. Jack said nothing. After a few moments, he went back to his work. He knew that Ennis just wanted to sit there for a moment. He didn't necessarily _want_ to talk, he only wanted Jack around just in case he did. He didn't speak for several minutes. "What're you doin'?" he asked.

"Oh, just lookin' at the financials. We could pay for the bungalow outright but it'd wipe out most 'o what we got in the expansion account. I think we're better off payin' half up front and mortgaging the balance."

"Shit, I hate bein' in debt."

"If we move Cyrus out t'stud in the Plains next season like we planned, his fees might make up the difference and let us pay it off in a coupla years."

"If you say so."

"I called CCV and figured out how much Junior's school's gonna cost. I'm just addin' that in t'the monthly expenses, here."

"That school cain't be that dear."

"No, it ain't. Won't be but a little bite. Still gotta keep track, though."

"Why don't we jus' use the money that was t'be for Bobby's college?" Ennis said. "I know it pains you t'think of it, but...well, it cain't do him no good no more."

Jack froze, a solid block of ice slamming into his stomach. _Oh, shit._ It suddenly hit him that he had not told Ennis what he'd done with Bobby's college money. He had hardly thought about it himself, not when he'd done it and not since. He stared at the wall, wondering if this was what cheese curd felt like when it was being squeezed dry in the hydraulic press.

"Jack?" Ennis said. Jack could hear the puzzled frown in his voice. "What?"

He turned around and met Ennis's eyes. "Yeah. The thing about that money is...well..."

"What?"

Jack took a deep breath. "I kinda gave it to Lureen."

Ennis's expression didn't change. He just sat there frowning at him, like he was trying to work out a difficult math problem in his head. "Now, hold on," he finally said. "I know, I _know_ that you didn't jus' say you gave that money t'Lureen."

Jack nodded miserably. "She was tryin' t'leave Childress, and get away from L.D., and I jus' wanted t'help her out..."

"So you gave her _fifty thousand dollars_ of _our_ money? Just on a whim, without a word t'me?"

"I wasn't thinkin'."

Ennis got up and began pacing, his steps taking quick, angry bites out of the hardwood floor of the office. "Oh, you was thinkin'. And I know what you was thinkin' with. Was this before or after you fucked her?"

Jack jumped up. "This is _not_ about that!" he exclaimed.

"I don't give a fuck!" Ennis hissed, standing toe to toe with him. "You had no right givin' that money away t'her without talkin' t'me about it, and you goddamn well know it."

"That was _my son's_ money, Ennis!"

"And if Bobby were still with us I'd be glad t'see him have the use of it, but he's gone and there's a lot 'o things we coulda used it for. That money coulda helped _my_ child. What the fuck gave you the idea that it might be a good idea t'give it away t'your ex-wife?"

"I owe her!" Jack exclaimed. "I fucked up her life and you of all people oughta know what I mean. Don't you tell me that you wouldn't help Alma if she needed it, 'cause you fucked up her life, too, and I know you'd make amends if you could."

"So you was makin' _amends,_ is that it?"

"What else?"

"I dunno. Fifty grand seems kinda high for services rendered."

Jack's temper flared. He shoved Ennis away, hard. "That's a fuckin' foul thing t'say."

Ennis shoved back. Jack staggered against the desk. "You done a fuckin' shitty thing 'n now you're tryin' t'justify it. Makes me sick, watchin' you backpedal like some kinda politician!"

"Why's it piss you off, Ennis? 'Cause I gave it away, or 'cause I gave it t'her?"

"I don't give a shit if you gave it t'her. Hell, I mighta even said go ahead, if'n you'd had the decency t'ask me what I thought! I ain't stupid, y'know, even though I know y'think I am. Dumb ole Ennis won't understand, so you'll do whatever you want and I'll jus' nod 'n go along, is that it?"

"I'd put my boy in the ground _the day before,_" Jack bit out. "I wasn't thinkin' about the particular etiquette!"

"This ain't no tea party! This ain't about when t'send a fuckin' thank-you note! It's fifty grand, and it weren't yours t'give away, asshole! Were you _ever_ gonna tell me 'bout this? Or were you jus' gonna hope I never noticed?"

"Tell you the truth, I ain't thought about it. Been kinda occupied since, or had you forgot!"

Ennis turned away, shaking his head. "I trust you t'handle things I got no head for, Jack. I ain't never questioned anythin' y'did with our money, or our business." He snorted. "Shit, I trusted you with her, too, 'n look where that got me. You musta been eatin' your Wheaties 'cause you done betrayed me twice in one day down there." He sighed. "Am I gonna have t'wonder now what else 'o ours you been handin' out? Do I work seven days a week runnin' this place so's you c'n jus' decide all by yourself t'give it away?" He stalked towards the door.

"Ennis, hold up..."

He whirled on him, one accusing finger out. "I don't wanna hear it. Jus' shut the hell up, Jack. I..." He threw up his hands and drew back. "I don't wanna see you for awhile." He stomped out of the room. Jack winced as he heard the back door slam.

_Well. That coulda gone better._

_

* * *

_

The phone rang around seven. Jack reached for it, and it was an effort. His fight with Ennis had plunged him into a funk, which wasn't helped by the fact that Ennis had run off to fester somewhere, in typical Ennis fashion, and hadn't come back yet. "Hello?"

"Jack, it's Lizzie."

"Oh, hi, swee'pea. How're you doin'?"

"I hate this goddamned city, I'm looking for a divorce lawyer and I might be about to lose my job. How're you?"

"My son killed himself, I got bashed in the head and now I think my husband probably never wants t'see me again."

"Great."

"Ain't it just?"

"Wait...what was that last part?"

Jack sighed. "Ennis ain't exactly speakin' t'me right now, which might be botherin' me if he were actually in the house."

"What happened?"

"Oh...we had a fight. 'Cause I'm a fuckin' idiot and that goddamned Texas trip ain't never gonna be over."

"I thought you'd gotten over the Lureen thing."

"That one, yeah. Now there's a new and improved Lureen thing."

"What'd you do this time?"

"Well...I think I mighta mentioned that me 'n Ennis put away some money for Bobby's college, 'cause he was the only one 'o the kids that had any interest in goin'. We put back about fifty grand."

"That's a lot of money."

"Yeah. Anyway...well, when I was down there 'n Lureen said she wanted t'leave Childress and get a new start, well..."

"Oh, Jack. You didn't."

"I kinda gave it to her."

"All of it?"

"Yeah. So Ennis is pissed off I done it without talkin' t'him."

"I gotta say, Jack, I'm on his side on this one. What were you thinking?"

"I been sittin' here askin' myself the same thing. I was jus' so sorry for Lureen, and I felt so bad 'bout leavin' her alone again after Bobby's dyin', and 'bout everthin' she wanted from me 'n never got..." Jack found himself choking up and had to take a moment. "She don't deserve that, Lizzie. She's a good person. I jus' wanted t'help her."

"Were you afraid that if you asked Ennis he'd say no?"

"Naw. In fact he said himself, he thought what I done was okay. He's just mad I ain't talked t'him first."

"He should be. I would be, too. And so would you, admit it."

"Oh, I'll admit it. I fucked up. Again." He sighed. "But Ennis has this thing. I dunno where it comes from. He gets this idea that I think he's dumb, or I don't think his opinion's worth nothin'."

"Well...think about it, Jack. Wasn't it your husbandry skills and your management that got you this far? And isn't it you who handles the money and the paperwork?"

"I guess so."

"Ennis probably feels like he _doesn't_ contribute as much as you do."

"That's bullshit. Nothin' I do's worth a goddamned thing without him t'run this place. Lord knows I couldn't do it."

"Everybody doubts their own importance, Jack. It's insecurity. We all secretly fear we're disposable. Ennis probably feels it more than most because of how much you're recognized for what you do. He's a man, and he's wired to be a provider and take charge to support his family, and it has to be disempowering for him to watch you handle everything on your own without his input. Every time you do something without talking to him, it's one more thing to make him think his opinion isn't important."

Jack shut his eyes. Sounded so goddamned logical put that way. How was it that women could just put things into words like that? "Damn, you oughta be a shrink."

"I've just read a lot of women's magazines."

"Maybe I should start readin' 'em too."

"I'll get you a subscription to Cosmo. Look, anger is really fear, okay?"

"Uh...it is?"

"Sure. When you get angry, it's really because you're scared. What's the angriest you've ever been in your life?"

"Probably at that guy Souter what shot me."

"Because you were afraid of dying. And Ennis is angry now because he's afraid you don't need him."

Jack sighed. "He's got no fuckin' clue how much I need him, then."

"I guess you'd better tell him."

"I guess so." He frowned. "Now, what's this about maybe losin' your job?"

* * *

When Ennis came to bed, Jack could smell that he'd been drinking. Not too much. He wasn't having any trouble walking. The smell of cigarettes was hanging all over him, too. Jack said nothing, just stayed on his side like he was asleep.

Ennis was considerate enough to shower before he came to bed, so he didn't smell like beer and smoke by the time he got between the sheets. Jack wanted to turn over and apologize, but he was also wondering if Ennis would say something first.

He was still wondering long after Ennis was asleep.

Sleep didn't come to Jack until very late, and when he woke up, Ennis was already gone. He got up and looked out the back window. Ennis was out by the shed, which was being quickly demolished. A dumpster and some equipment was waiting nearby to dispose of what was left of it.

Jack showered, standing under the hot water for longer than necessary. He was ready to apologize. He was ready to talk about it. But dammit, he wasn't going to go running after Ennis like a puppy dog. The man would have to stay in the same room with him long enough to hear it.

* * *

Ennis would have been glad for some busywork that day. He wished it was yesterday, when he'd had more to do than one man could reasonably handle. The fireworks were neatly and safely stored in the barn, covered by a tight tarpaulin. The shed was just about gone. Rod and Cady had disposed of Chappie's body. Everything was back to normal.

He hid out in the lean-to by the stables, the new home of the ranch's firearms, and busied himself organizing, cleaning and checking all the guns. The work was repetitive and soothing.

He hated fighting with Jack. It was like watching a favorite tree chopped down or a beloved lake fill with trash. It upset him, but it was sometimes necessary. They were both stubborn sons of bitches, and it was inevitable. But this, what Jack had done, hurt him in a deep and ill-defined way that even his tryst with Lureen had failed to do. That had been an affront to his emotions. This was an affront of a different kind. It made him feel small, like he didn't matter. The thought that he didn't matter to Jack made him want to run away and hack at things with an axe.

One of the rifles needed its sight adjusted. Ennis grabbed some ammo and left the lean-to, intending to shoot off some trial rounds and fix the sight, but as he passed by the stable he saw a trail of dust heading up the driveway. He squinted, and saw the UPS van leaving.

He frowned. _UPS? What's being delivered? We ain't expectin'..._ His eyes widened. They _were_ expecting something. A large box from Texas, full of Bobby's things.

Ennis put the gun and ammo back in the lean-to and headed for the house.

Jack was sitting in the living room, the box in front of him on the floor, staring at it with a blank expression. He looked up as Ennis entered, apprehension in his eyes. "It's here," he said.

Ennis sighed, and swallowed his anger. _I'll kick his ass later._ He crossed the living room to sit next to him on the couch. "Then we best open it," he said, taking out his pocket knife. "You want me t'do it?"

Jack shook his head and took the knife. "No. I'll do it."

He opened the box. The first thing Ennis saw was a tall trophy. It was red and gold and had a little football-playing figure on the top. Jack lifted it up and ran his fingers over the engraved lettering on the base. "Most Valuable Player," he whispered. "Lookit, Ennis."

Ennis took the trophy. "That's mighty fine." He looked around. "I think I know where this c'n go." He got up and put the trophy on the wooden mantle that circled the free-standing chimney between the living room and the dining room.

Jack smiled. He looked far away, as if the box had taken his mind to another place, or even to another life. "That's good," he said.

Ennis rejoined him on the couch. "What else we got?"

Lureen had sent a good deal more than just what Jack had told him he'd picked out, Ennis realized. Jack pulled out a football, and a baseball glove, and a framed class photo, and another framed photo of Jack and a five-year-old Bobby standing on a huge combine. Each item was examined, and commented on, and then handed to Ennis, who laid it carefully on the couch at his side.

Bobby's football jersey was near the bottom of the box. It was red and white, his school colors. Number 45, with the name Twist on the back. Jack stared at it for a long time, until Ennis gently pulled it from his fingers. "Maybe we c'n get this framed, or somethin'," he said quietly, folding the jersey.

There was one last item beneath the jersey. Ennis felt Jack start to shake when he saw it. He reached into the box and withdrew a little boy's cowboy shirt. It was a flashy, gaudy, tasteless thing. It was some kind of shiny red material with white fringe and piping. The kind of shirt a boy with some hero-worship on for his rodeo-riding daddy would think was just the bee's knees. The kind of shirt a boy might sleep with, and want to wear every day, and show off to his friends with his new red fake cowboy boots and his miniature white Stetson. Ennis could just picture Bobby in it, all puffed up and strutting his stuff. Jack held the shirt as if it were made of spiderwebs, his fingers touching the fringe, some of it frayed and some of it missing, and the threadbare fabric. "I got him this," he whispered. Ennis slid a little closer so his shoulder and thigh were touching Jack's. "He said he was gonna be a rodeo star. Like me." He sighed, and it snagged a few times on the way out. "Christ, ain't it ugly," he said, laughing a little. "But he wanted it so bad. Wore it till he couldn't close the buttons no more. Damn near wore it out." Jack cradled that shirt in both hands, bringing it slowly to his face to cover his mouth and nose, his eyes falling closed. Ennis could see Jack's tears wetting the fabric. He lowered the shirt a little and stared at it, his chin quivering. "He kept it, Ennis. He _kept_ it, all these years."

"'O course he did," Ennis murmured. "His Daddy gave it to him."

There was no better way to describe it, Ennis thought, than to say that Jack slowly melted. He didn't weep, or collapse into tears. He just seemed to lose control of his muscles while his bones turned to jelly. Next thing he knew, Ennis was holding him across his lap, rubbing his back and murmuring nonsense words of comfort that meant nothing except for the deep wish of the man uttering them that Jack's pain could go away, melt away like his bones and Bobby himself. Jack still clutched the cowboy shirt to his chest, balled in both hands, shrinking into Ennis's arms in eerie silence.

Eventually Ennis ran out of nonsense words, so he just held him. He held him until his arms went numb and his back ached, but he didn't let go.

* * *

They packed the box again and put it in the room Bobby had usually slept in during his visits. "That's a good idea, t'frame that jersey," Jack said, nodding. "It'd look nice in the hall here."

"You bet." Ennis touched Jack's arm. "You okay?"

He took a deep breath and looked around, as if considering this. "Y'know what? I think I am. I'm glad t'have these things. It feels finished, in some kinda way."

Ennis nodded. "Good."

Jack met his eyes. "Thanks."

"For what?"

"For helpin' me do that. I know you're prob'ly still mad at me. S'nice of you t'set that aside for a bit."

"Yeah, I'm still mad. But bein' mad don't get me off the hook 'o them promises I made, does it? Y'know. Better 'n worse, 'n all that shit."

"I'm sorry, Ennis. I shoulda talked t'you before I did anythin' like that. I got no excuse."

Ennis mulled that over. "You sayin' that 'cause you're sorry, or 'cause you don't want me t'be mad no more?"

"Cain't it be both? Look...I dunno where you get this crazy notion that I think you ain't smart, or that you ain't important 'round here."

"That ain't what I think."

"The hell it ain't. Wherever it comes from, it ain't true. I wouldn't las' a day in this business without you, you got that?"

Ennis had his doubts, but it was still nice to hear it. "If you say so."

"C'n I make it up t'you?"

That sounded promising. "What'd you have in mind?"

"Oh, jus' a little afternoon nap."

"And am I gonna get any sleep durin' this nap?"

"Not if I'm doin' it right."

"Well...okay." Jack grinned, seized his hand and pulled him towards their bedroom. "But I'm still mad at you, y'know."

"Good. Because you know what? I been bad. Real bad."

"Oh, don't start this."

"I think I oughta be punished."

"That ain't fair. You're skippin' right t'the middle."

"No time. Besides, it's the middle 'o the day. Cain't start at the beginnin', the stable's full 'o people. Have to make do with the quick-n-dirty version."

Ennis shut the bedroom door behind him. "Then you best start beggin' for mercy, 'cause you gonna get what's comin' t'you."

* * *

**A/N:** _And that, my friends, is probably all I can stand to write about the Naughty Stable Boy and the Strict Stock Boss._


	23. Chapter 22

_**March, 1976**_

_Ennis stopped the truck at the crest of the drive and got out. Jack was bounding up the drive towards the house like a little kid. "Ennis! It's perfect!" he exclaimed, turning back towards him and throwing his arms wide._

_Ennis frowned. "It is?" The place was a dump. The house was falling down. The fences and roads were overgrown with weeds. There was a stable, but it was also falling down._

_"Look," Jack said, returning to join him. "The stables'r big enough. And there's enough land for a good-sized herd. There's already a corral, and look at that house!"_

_"It's a shack."_

_"Yeah, but what a great spot. Land behind it goes down to the river. I had it checked, 'n the foundation's good. We c'd build a new, better house on top. Fix up the barns…it looks ratty, but it don't need that much work."_

_"L.D.'s money ain't gonna be enough."_

_"We'll get a business loan."_

_"I hate bein' in fuckin' debt, Jack. S'the one thing I c'n point to in my life, I ain't never been in debt."_

_"That's 'cause you never went for somethin' big enough to need it," Jack said. "This could be our place, Ennis. Cain't y'see it?"_

_That was just it. Ennis _could_ see it. He could see that house Jack was talking about building. He could see herds in the pastures, and horses in the stable, and busy ranch hands. He could see a home, one like he'd never had. He could see him and Jack having their own bedroom, and waking up with him every day, and sitting on the back porch with him while they watched the sun set and had a coupla beers. He looked at Jack, his face so full of enthusiasm, hopes and plans that Ennis couldn't help but get caught up in it. He slid his hand up around Jack's neck and smiled. "Yeah. I c'n see it."_

_"Let's call the realtor."_

_"God almighty, are we really doin' this?" Ennis said, wondering when it would all fall apart._

_Jack stood at his side and they both stared down at what would soon be their farm. "Yep, we are," he said._

_Ennis sighed. "Damn, Jack. Y'know this was what I always wanted. All my life, wanted t'have my own spread, live on land I owned myself." He shook his head. "How c'n it be that you're the one givin' it t'me?"_

_"S'only fair."_

_"How's that?"_

_"You gave _me_ what _I_ always wanted. Jus' returnin' the favor."_

_

* * *

_

_**July 28, 1983**  
...one month later..._

_

* * *

_

On a normal Tuesday night, Liz would have been at home, watching "St. Elsewhere." It didn't matter that it was rerun season. David Morse owned a not-insignificant chunk of her soul, and she'd be damned if she'd miss it.

But it wasn't a normal Tuesday. On _this_ particular Tuesday, Liz found herself jobless and homeless, sitting in the Features section of the paper's offices at what had until recently been her desk, sobbing piteously and cursing herself for letting it make her so hysterical. She usually prided herself on not behaving like a "typical" emotional woman, and yet here she was, scaring the cleaning crew.

It wasn't like she hadn't seen it coming. She'd been making quiet preparations for weeks. But she never thought it would be so abrupt. Her preparations had been more along the lines of securing her bank accounts and asking around about good lawyers. Nothing she'd done had prepared her to come home, slightly tipsy from the sorry-you-got-canned bar outing she'd been dragged to by well-meaning friends, to find suitcases and bags containing her clothes sitting outside her apartment. Nor to discover that her key no longer worked, and when she knocked, to have it answered by the fucking secretary (pun definitely intended) as if she were Queen of the Castle. Liz wished she could go back and stop herself from knocking at all, just so she wouldn't have to see that smug, victorious expression on SlutBomb's face again.

She'd stashed her belongings at the apartment of her neighbor, a very bohemian architect who had been telling her to dump Charlie for months. And then she'd fled. Why she'd come _here_ was another question. Probably because she had a key, and she knew it'd be deserted.

_Call your mother,_ a rational voice inside her head urged her. _Call your best friend. You need help, missy._

She couldn't argue with that. She'd call her mother. Her mom had never liked Charlie, but to her credit hadn't been smug when it went sour. She picked up the phone and dialed, listening to the faraway rings. She really thought she'd dialed her mother's number.

And yet, she wasn't surprised when Ennis answered. "Hello?" Just hearing his voice made her weeping begin anew. She hadn't talked to him or Jack in a few weeks, not since just after the Fourth. She couldn't speak. She heard him sigh. "You calm yourself now, Lizzie." How he knew it was her, she'd never know.

"I'm sorry to to call you like this," she choked out.

"You hush now. What happened?"

"I...I lost my job, and...Charlie threw me out..." She didn't get much further. Not that there was much more to say than that.

Ennis's voice stayed at its usual just-above-mumbling tone. "D'you got any cash on you?"

"Uh-huh," she said. "About a hundred dollars."

"Okay. You calm yourself down. Gimme the number where you are." Liz rattled it off, and she could hear Ennis writing it down. "I've gotta hang up for a minute, but I'm gonna call you right back, okay?"

Liz nodded. "Okay." She hung up and sat staring at the phone. She felt unpleasantly impotent, like she'd lost all ability to think and act for herself. Was this what a nervous breakdown felt like? She thought that unless someone moved her, she could easily sit in this chair and stare at this phone (formerly _her_ phone) until doomsday. Still, she felt better having called Ennis. Ennis would somehow wave a magic wand and make it all go away.

When the phone rang again, she jumped. "Ennis?"

"Okay, I got it all set. You get a taxi and get yourself to LaGuardia. Go to the United counter and tell 'em your name. There's a ticket waitin' there for you. All y'gotta do is get yourself to the gate and get on the plane. I'll pick you up once y'get t'Burlington, okay?"

Liz sighed deep from her chest, a tremendous weight of confusion and panic lifting from her shoulders. "Okay," she managed to say. "Thanks, Ennis."

"Was wonderin' what I'd have t'do t'get you back up here, city gal." He hung up.

* * *

Liz's flight wasn't until ten thirty, as it turned out, so it was almost midnight by the time she walked off the jetway into the Burlington airport. She looked around apprehensively, feeling a little self-conscious. Since speaking to Ennis she'd battled her way back to something resembling composure, and now she felt more than a little silly about having called him in hysterics, and about letting him scoop her up and carry her off to Neverland where all the bad things would be far away. She knew she ought to stay in the city and take of her own damned crisis. And yet, somehow, she'd gotten on the plane anyway.

Ennis was standing near the gate. He smiled when he saw her, and she felt herself wanting to cry again. It was always so much easier to collapse when there was someone to catch you. She hurried across the waiting area and unabashedly threw her arms around his neck, the flannel of his shirt smelling of campfires and pine trees and horses and the ranch. "Thank you," she said into his shoulder.

"Welcome home, Lizzie," he said.

Liz didn't care whether he'd meant to say "welcome back" and simply misspoke, or if he meant it. She only knew that she agreed. She drew back, wiping at her eyes, and cast a furtive glance around. She had spent most of the flight debating whether she hoped that Jack would be with Ennis when he picked her up, or whether she hoped he wouldn't be. In her state, having just been unceremoniously dumped by her husband before she could get the chance to dump _him,_ which was extremely embarrassing, seeing the man her mind insisted on holding up as the paragon of everything desirable might not be the best thing that could happen. Still, it was _Jack_, and she wanted to see him.

At any rate, he didn't seem to be here. Ennis caught her quick look around. "Lookin' for my better half?" he said, smiling.

"He didn't want to come with?" she asked, trying and failing to keep the hurt tone from her voice.

Ennis chuckled, leading her away from the gate with a companionable arm around her shoulders. "Don't take it personal. He's in Chicago. North American Cattle Breeders' Association convention. He goes every year."

"You don't go with him?"

"Nah. Ain't my scene. As many ribbons as he's won, he's kind of a celebrity at that convention. I'd hate t'cramp his style. This year they actually asked him t'give a speech. Spent the last week agonizin' about it."

Liz smiled, picturing Jack standing at a podium in front of an audience of ranchers and breeders and cowboys. She imagined him talking about cattle and husbandry and stud fees, confident and funny, winning over his listeners, as was his way in everything. "When's he back?"

"Tomorrow."

They were crossing the parking lot now, and Liz was grateful for a topic of conversation that didn't involve her own situation. "How long's he been gone?"

"Since last Thursday."

"I bet you're anxious to have him back, then."

"Yeah. It's always the same. He goes on one 'o his trips and the first day, I'm glad for the peace 'n quiet. But by the second mornin' 'o wakin' up alone I'm countin' the days till he's back."

They got into Ennis's truck. Liz buckled herself in, sighing and relaxing against the seat. "And to think you used to not see him for months at a time," she said.

Ennis nodded as they left the parking lot. "I know. Lookin' back, I got no idea how I did it, how either of us did it. 'O course, we weren't used t'seein' each other every day, like we are now." He merged onto the highway and eased up, settling in for the drive home.

Liz waited for him to ask her what was going on, but he didn't. He just drove in silence, one hand on the wheel, the other one braced on the window frame. "You haven't asked me what happened," she finally said.

"You told me enough. No job, no home, no husband. You c'n tell us the whole story once Jack gets home. No use tellin' it twice."

* * *

The house seemed to reach out to her as Ennis parked the truck in the garage. Exhaustion that went deeper than flesh was overtaking her, and she practically poured herself out of the truck.

Ennis didn't talk, he just walked her to her old bedroom, taking her bag away and setting it on the chair. He sat her down and disappeared for a moment, returning with a t-shirt. "One 'o mine, oughta do you for sleepin'," he said. "Where's all your clothes and things?"

"My neighbor has everything," she said. "It's okay, he'll keep it for me."

"Okay, then." He bent and peered at her. "You jus' get some sleep, okay?"

Liz nodded dumbly. She felt drunk, except drunk was more fun. "I feel like I might never wake up."

"You sleep as long as you want."

She met his eyes and felt her own welling up yet again, this time with affection for Ennis and gratitude for his friendship. "I can't thank you enough, Ennis," she whispered. "But...I had nowhere else to go." As she said it, she realized it was true. Her mother was far away, in Kentucky, and would probably have blamed her for her problems anyway. Her best friend had been increasingly distant since she'd married Charlie, and her other friends were either glorified office buddies or people she knew through Charlie. Sitting at her former desk, wrecked and confused, she'd come up against the truth of how isolated she'd let herself become during her relationship with Charlie. He'd been so all-encompassing for the last year of her life that everything else had fallen away, and then when _he'd_ fallen away, it left her with nothing.

Nothing but a pair of gay ranchers in Vermont who had somehow come to feel more like home to her than the city she'd lived in for years.

"Hush, now," Ennis said. "You know you're always welcome here." He patted her shoulder. "You get some sleep. Everthin'll seem better in the morning, specially once Jack gets home." He smiled at her, tweaking her nose like she was one of his daughters, and left the room, shutting the door behind him.

Liz stripped and put on Ennis's t-shirt, which smelled like laundry detergent. She slid between the sheets of this impossibly comfortable bed, the power of which was more than a match even for her most troubling thoughts, and within a few moments she was asleep.

* * *

Jack shoved his briefcase into the overhead compartment, pulling out a book to read on the flight, and settled into his first-class seat. He hated flying, but since he had to do it with some regularity, he insisted on flying in the less claustrophobic first-class section despite Ennis's squawking over the added expense. It was that or he didn't go at all, he reasoned, and his presence at many of these conventions and shows was important to the business. Half of their stud fee income came from people who'd seen his stock at shows or met him at conferences.

A man in a business suit sat down next to him. They exchanged the perfunctory smiles of strangers forced into close proximity by circumstance, then proceeded to ignore each other. Jack looked out the window, anxious for takeoff. This convention was usually his longest trip of the year, and he was always eager to get home once it was over. He missed Ennis, and the ranch, and he hated being trapped in a sterile hotel room with no one to keep him company. His nightly phone call home was barely a comfort; Ennis was not exactly a sparkling phone conversationalist and sometimes hearing his voice just made it worse. He'd once tried to coax him into some mild sexy talk, but that had gone nowhere fast. He'd told himself that Ennis had become more comfortable with himself and their relationship than he would ever have dared to dream; asking him to have phone sex was possibly pushing his luck just a little bit.

"Anxious to get home?" his seat-mate suddenly said.

Jack turned. The man was smiling knowingly, and Jack realized that his leg was bouncing and he was turning his ring around and around on his fingers. He flushed a little. "Oh...yeah. I s'pose I am. Been away for nearly a week now."

"Me, too. Business trip."

"Same here."

"What's your business?"

"I breed and raise cattle."

The man's eyebrows lifted. "Really? You're...a cowboy?"

Jack smiled. "Some folks call it that."

"Wow. A real live cowboy." He sniffed. "Being a stockbroker sounds so dull after that." He frowned. "So why are you flying to New York? I thought they raised cattle in Texas and Kansas."

"I'm goin' on t'Vermont, actually. That's where my farm is. Just south of Burlington."

"No kidding," the man said, and Jack detected real interest in his tone. It wasn't unusual. People often found his line of work fascinating, especially city people who hadn't grown up around it. "Damn. Well, I bet you're eager to get back to that after being stuck in Chicago for a whole week."

"Oh, you c'n say that again."

The man smiled, nodding down at Jack's hand. "Anxious to see your wife, too, I bet."

Jack didn't hesitate or let himself consider any negative outcomes. It was part of a new theory he was testing. "My husband, actually, but yeah, I'm real anxious t'see him."

His seatmate blinked; his expression didn't change. Jack held his gaze, waiting to see where the ball would land…the fairway or the rough. If it took a bad bounce, this could be a very long flight. The man collected himself and reached into his back pocket to pull out his wallet. He leaned closer, clearing his throat, and showed Jack a photo of himself and a handsome blond man. "This is Brian," he said, his voice subdued and tinged with wonder, as if he couldn't quite believe he was saying this to a complete stranger. "We've been together for four years."

Jack grinned. "Ain't he a looker."

"Well, I think so." He looked up at Jack. "Do you have a picture?"

Jack pulled out his own wallet and showed him the one photo he carried with him. It was one Marianne had taken, at her daughter's third birthday party. They'd all been sitting around eating birthday cake and watching the antics of a party's worth of kids hopped up on sugar. Marianne had caught him and Ennis looking at each other and laughing. It was Jack's favorite picture of them. They looked so free and happy, like nothing had ever or would ever turn out badly. "That's my Ennis," he said.

His seatmate smiled. "Wow. He looks like Steve McQueen."

Jack frowned, turning the photo this way and that. "Y'think so?" He'd never noticed. "Huh. I kinda got a thing for Steve McQueen. Maybe that's why. Y'really think so?"

"Absolutely." The man held out his hand. "I'm Evan Rosenberg, by the way."

Jack shook the proferred hand. "Jack Twist."

Evan was shaking his head in disbelief. "I can't believe you just said it like that, you just _told_ me, like you were telling me what kind of car you drive. I could have been anybody. Unless you could tell that I'm gay. Could you tell? Do I have a vibe or something?"

Jack laughed. "No, I couldn't tell. Ain't no vibe s'far as I c'n see."

Evan sighed. "I wish I had that kind of courage."

"Ain't courage, friend. You act ashamed, people gonna treat you like you got a reason t'be. I ain't sayin' I go 'round trumpeting it to everbody I meet, but I promised myself I'd never lie about it if it came up." He thought for a moment. "Thing is…we let people know how t'treat us without sayin' a word. If I say it furtive-like, or lower my voice, or look 'round t'see who c'n hear, I'm telling people that I ain't got the same right as them t'be proud 'o what I got. But if I jus' say it like there ain't nothin' wrong, and like there ain't no reason why anyone would ever react in a bad way, then…well, people respond like that. Most 'o the time."

"That's amazing."

"Little theory 'o mine I been testin' out. I jus' come from a conference 'o five thousand cowboys, ranchers and good ole boys, so I got a lot 'o testin' done."

"You told everybody at this conference?"

"Nah. Lots of 'em already know me, so it ain't like it's some kinda big secret. And I don't go to no pains t'bring it up. But if it comes up, I don't lie. I tell it, straight up." He chuckled. "So to speak."

"That could get you beat up. Or killed."

Jack nodded. "That's what Ennis says. I ain't no fool. I'm careful where I go, and who I'm with. And I know it's a risk. But I ain't gonna start denyin' somethin' that's so important t'me just 'cause it might be risky. That ain't no kinda way t'live." He shrugged. "Mos' folks, even if they think we're deviants and goin' t'hell, won't say so to my face. They'll be polite 'n change the subject 'n then talk about me when I cain't hear, which suits me jus' fine. But lots 'o folks don't really give a damn one way or the other. At home, everbody jus' knows me'n Ennis as regular fellas, decent church-going types, and nobody much cares…or if they do, we hardly hear about it."

"You're lucky to live in Vermont."

"Don't I know it." Jack smiled, turning back to the window. "I'm lucky in lots 'o ways."

* * *

Ennis hung around the house after lunch. Jack's flight had left Chicago at eight o'clock in the morning, which meant that he should be coming home at any time. He'd called home before leaving the hotel, so Ennis had been able to let him know that Lizzie was back. Jack had made noises about staying in New York when he got there and having a little chat with Lizzie's husband, but Ennis had made it abundantly clear that if he didn't get his ass back home as soon as possible, Charlie would have some company on the shit list. Jack had made a comment about his ass being all Ennis cared about, and it had devolved from there.

As for the lady herself, Lizzie was still asleep. She'd looked so tired and wrung out the night before that Ennis had even been a little alarmed. She'd just been kinda _slow_, as if her brain wasn't working properly. He wondered how bad things had gotten in the time since she'd left them.

His introspection on this subject was interrupted by the sound of Jack's truck on the drive. Ennis went out to the front porch and waved. Jack waved back and pulled into the garage. Ennis trotted over to meet him as he came around to the tailgate. "Howdy, stranger," he said, hugging him hello with a big grin spreading across his face in spite of himself.

"Hey, cowboy," Jack said. "Miss me?"

Ennis drew back and kissed him hard, gripping big handfuls of his shirt. "That answer your question, dumbass?"

Jack chuckled and yanked him close again, apparently not satisfied with just one kiss after a week away. Ennis let himself relax against him, Jack's hands on either side of his head, and hung on to Jack's beltloops as he worked his mouth over with a thoroughness Ennis wished he'd apply to the yardwork. "Been savin' that up for you," Jack murmured as he pulled back.

"I'm much obliged," Ennis said, reaching in to the back of the truck and pulling out Jack's suitcase. They headed back to the house, Jack with his suitbag over his shoulder. "Flight okay?"

"Yeah. Met a real nice fella on the plane from Chicago. We talked the whole trip. He was gay, too, and real happy t'have someone t'chat with without bein' paranoid 'bout it."

"That so? You try out your new theory on him?"

"That's how he come t'tell me, 'cause I said it first. He said he's gonna try my theory himself."

"Great. He'll be confessin' t'random folks on the street and get himself beat down, and that'll be on your head, Jack."

"Jesus, Ennis, y'gotta be so dour 'bout it?"

Ennis grunted. "Hey, you chattin' up random fellas on airplanes, I oughta just be glad you weren't in the bathroom joinin' that Mile High club."

Jack's jaw dropped, as did his suitbag. "Oh no, you did not jus' say that, you green-eyed sonofabitch."

Ennis smirked. "What you gonna do 'bout it, pansy-ass?"

Jack grabbed him around the waist from behind and lifted him right off the ground. Ennis bucked like a bronco, trying to throw him off. "Wait," Jack said, pausing. "Where's Lizzie?"

Ennis seized the opportunity and turned around, whipping Jack in a circle and getting his arm around his neck. "Still asleep. Ain't nobody gonna come t'your rescue." He ducked and shoved his shoulder into Jack's stomach and hauled him off the ground, seizing his legs and carrying him off like a sack of feed grain.

"Goddamn it, put me down!" Jack grunted, thrashing and pummeling Ennis's back.

"No chance in hell," Ennis said, grinning. He kicked the bedroom door shut behind him and tossed Jack onto the bed. He stepped back and yanked his shirt off over his head.

Jack was quick. He launched himself off the bed at Ennis's waist and tackled him to the bedroom floor. "That's it, hoss. You're done for," he said, straddling his legs and trapping him there.

"Oh damn, what a shame," Ennis said, making no attempt to escape. Jack reared back and tore his own shirt off in one motion. "I guess I'm gonna get it now."

"Goddamn right you are," Jack said, leaning down to dive into Ennis's mouth, seizing it hard and fast. He withdrew again and undid Ennis's fly, then deftly flipped him over. Ennis shifted so he could hang on to the side of the bed as Jack shoved him to his knees. "Whole week 'o beatin' off," Jack gasped, biting out a few curses as he slid home.

"Long fuckin' week," Ennis muttered. He put his head down as Jack went to work, and soon he didn't have the presence of mind for another word.

* * *

Jack put his ear to the door. "I don't hear nothin'."

"She's been sleepin' since about one o'clock."

"Damn, that's like twelve hours! We oughta wake her up."

"Go ahead, then."

"You do it."

"It was your idea."

Jack sighed, and knocked lightly. No answer. He knocked again, and heard a sleepy grunt. He took a deep breath and pushed the door open a little. "Swee'pea? It's just us."

He poked his head in the door. Lizzie was turning over, rubbing at her eyes. "Jack?"

He eased the door open wider. "You okay? You been sleepin' a real long time."

She lifted her head up and grinned at him. "Oh, you're home!"

To Jack's horror she slid out of bed and padded to the door to hug him. He averted his eyes, conscious that she was wearing only one of Ennis's t-shirts, and by the feel of things, no bra. "Yep, home from the big city," he said, hugging her back. "Jus' like you."

Liz took a step back, wakefulness coming into her face. She glanced down at herself and gasped, crossing her arms in front of her and ducking back into bed. "Oh, jeez. I'm…sorry, guys."

He and Ennis chuckled. "It's okay, Lizzie. Nothin' we ain't seen before."

"Not of _mine_!" she exclaimed, blushing magenta.

"No, I'll give you that. I'm gonna get you a bathrobe, okay? Then you better tell us what the hell happened to you in New York."

A few busy minutes found them seated around the kitchen table with coffee, Lizzie wrapped in a robe of Junior's. "I can't believe I slept so long," she said.

"You musta needed the rest," Ennis said.

"I guess. I almost feel human, at least." She set down her coffee mug. "Okay. Well, here's the thing. I'd been quietly making preparations to move out of Charlie's place and file for divorce. I can only think he must have got wind of it somehow. Things had been hard for me at work. I hate to accuse him of it, but I never had any trouble there before things went bad for me and Charlie. My stories would mysteriously disappear, assignments weren't getting to me. Yesterday, I was fired."

Jack shook his head. "That ain't right. You could sue or somethin', couldn't you?"

"Maybe, but it'd be damned hard to prove it and it'd cost a fortune. Truth be told, I'm kind of relieved. Anyway, my friends took me out drinking, and when I got back to the apartment, all my clothes were outside, the locks were changed, and his secretary was, apparently, moving in."

Jack glanced at Ennis. He'd had no clue Charlie was _that_ much of a bastard. "He couldn'ta done it some other day than when you got fired? He had t'go make a bad day worse?"

Liz blinked. "Don't you get it? He was _waiting_ for me to get fired to kick me out! It would have been awkward if he'd kicked me out while I still worked with him, he'd have had to see me every day at the office. He didn't wait a single second longer than he absolutely had to." She shook her head. To Jack's eyes, she didn't look heartbroken so much as pissed off.

"You don't seem too upset," he said.

"I'm just mad!" she exclaimed. "He fucking _scooped_ me! I was planning to move out, so he beat me to it! Bastard. Didn't give me a chance to get my feet under me before he knocked me over."

Jack sighed. "Well, you did the right thing calling Ennis."

"I don't know how I did it. I thought I was calling my mother. I guess my brain is smarter than I am." She smiled at them. "Being here is like Valium. Last night I felt so out of control, so…I don't know. Hysterical. But now, I feel like I can just take things one step at a time, and work it all out."

Ennis nodded. "Well…that's good, then."

"I sure appreciate you guys letting me stay. I promise I won't let it drag on too long."

"What are you going to do?" Jack asked.

Liz blinked, looking like she hadn't thought to ask herself this question yet. "I have no idea." Suddenly, she grinned. "I have no job, no home, no income, a couple thousand bucks in a savings account and absolutely no idea what I'm going to do about it! Isn't that great?" She burst out laughing.

Jack and Ennis cast dubious glances at each other. "Great as that is," Jack said, "I cain't agree with all of it."

She cocked her head, her laughter petering out into giggles. "Which part?"

He smiled. "Ain't true that y'got no home, swee'pea."


	24. Chapter 23

**A/N:** _There are either one or two more chapters remaining in "Human Interest." We'll see how long the rest of the story takes to tell. I have a daughter to move in to the ranch and a party for all of us to attend. I'm going to attempt to do all that in one chapter, but it might be a long one._

_I'd also like to announce that there is now a LiveJournal community dedicated to my BBM fanfiction. Since it seems to be impossible to include a URL in a document here (they always end up cut off and truncated), I've listed the community's URL as my homepage on my profile, so go there for the link. __ Please feel free to come and join, or just watch the community if you're not an LJ member. You need to go to the community info page to join._

_

* * *

_

_...one week later..._

_

* * *

_

Jack had been preoccupied all day. First, he'd gotten a phone call from their ranch hand Phil Jacobson, who was currently in Oklahoma with Edgar, one of Jack's prize-winning bulls. Edgar's sperm count was down and the motility was not looking good, and if the problem couldn't be corrected, he would have to be taken off the stud market. No rancher would pay five grand for the services of a bull that couldn't reliably impregnate his cows. That wasn't good news. Next had come the abrupt resignation of Miles, one of their other hands, a longtime employee who'd been Rod Borrickson's right-hand man. His stated reason for leaving was so he could move back to Nebraska to learn his father's feed-supply business, but Jack couldn't help but wonder. Their recent experiences were making him see homophobia everywhere, although Miles had never seemed uncomfortable before. His departure would leave them seriously short-handed, to say nothing of the fact that he and Ennis had been seriously considering Miles as a candidate to replace Stubbs, their aging foreman. Then, the construction on Junior's bungalow was delayed by problems with the foundation, which was already shifting. Seemed the soil beneath the site was less stable than had originally been thought.

He had tried to relax all evening, but events kept conspiring to prevent it. Just after dinner, a messenger had showed up to serve Lizzie with divorce papers. She'd signed them without a word, then gone to her room and shut the door, leaving him and Ennis to shrug at each other. Then Junior had called, in tears after another colossal fight with her mother, and Ennis had to talk her down. Then, on top of everything else, he'd tried to discuss his anxieties with Ennis. That hadn't gone well, either.

"I'm worried that if we have to take Edgar off the market, it's gonna raise hell with the margin this year."

Ennis grunted, his eyes on the TV. "It'll be fine."

"What's that mean, 'it'll be fine?' How will it be fine?"

"You'll make it work out okay."

"Sure, I'll jus' wave my magic wand'n somehow conjure up the fifty grand it'll cost us in Edgar's fees."

"Fifty grand. Huh. Seems t'me we had fifty grand at our disposal recently but it kinda vanished into thin air." He said this with barely a glance in Jack's direction.

A number of retorts sprung to Jack's lips, but he couldn't bring himself to let any of them fly. "I guess I let myself in for that one," he muttered.

"You worry too much."

"You don't worry enough. We ain't exactly bein' frugal this year. What with the new bungalow, and Junior's tuition, and..."

That got Ennis's attention. "Oh, I see. It's fine for you t'give away what we saved for Bobby, but spendin' money on _my_ daughter is a big fuckin' imposition."

"That ain't what I meant. I'm glad t'do it, but it's an expense and no mistake." He sighed. "We oughta ship more stock this year."

"Cain't ship more than they'll buy."

"Then we shouldn't replace Miles."

"I cain't run this place without enough help!"

"Then _you_ come up with somethin'! God, y'speak pretty free 'bout it for a man never claps an eye to the bank statements!"

"Christ, Jack. With as much money as y'always say we pull in, how c'n y'be so worried about..."

"Jesus. Yeah, we bring in a fair amount. But that ain't all profit, y'know! It costs a small fortune t'run this place!"

"Y'think I don't know that? I'm the one takes all the invoices."

"You sure ain't the one squarin' the books." Jack sighed.

"If you're so worried, maybe we shouldn't be havin' this goddamned party," Ennis grumbled.

Jack looked up. "This _goddamned_ party?" Ennis's choice of words stung. "Maybe we shouldn't, if it's such a fuckin' _chore_."

Ennis sniffed. "That ain't what I meant. I mean it's gonna cost us."

"We ain't _that_ tight that we cain't afford our party." He sighed, leaning back against the couch cushions. "Don't y'want t'have it?"

"_You_ want t'have it, and I want you t'have what y'want."

"You jus' want t'act like it's all the same 'n go back t'your hidey-hole, like nothin' ever changed."

"Oh, for Christ's sake. Ain't never enough, is it? You ain't gonna be happy till I drag you up in the middle of town square 'n stick my tongue down your fuckin' throat in front 'o the whole damned town, are you?"

"That ain't the fuckin' point." He shook his head. "Damn, I didn't wanna fight with you tonight on top 'o everthin' else."

"Then shut the fuck up 'n quit bellyachin' like a goddamned girl," Ennis said, smirking and casting a sidelong glance at him.

Jack jabbed him in the ribs with his elbow. Ennis shoved back. Jack pushed him half off the couch, and Ennis grabbed him around the chest and yanked him across his lap, half-growling and half-laughing, and got him in a half-nelson until Jack finally cried uncle and Ennis let him go. "Asshole," Jack muttered.

"Dumbass."

And then it was okay again. But it hadn't exactly cleared away all Jack's anxieties.

He'd tried to put everything out of his mind by bedtime, but his brain refused to shut off. When Ennis had put out the light and reached for him, he'd welcomed the distraction, but he couldn't seem to relax.

So now here he was, trying to concentrate on having sex with his man, hanging on to the headboard and worrying about how long it'd take to find a replacement for Miles or if they should hire one at all. He was trying to stay focused on Ennis, but his mind kept wandering. Ennis's grunts and mutterings behind him became background noise to his restless thoughts. _If we c'd send Joey out t'stud that might make some of it up...but no, I gotta have him here. God, how much is that new foundation gonna cost, and if they gotta shore it up that's another week, and if it ain't done by the time she gets here it's gonna be a major pain in the ass t'have t'move her twice..._ He frowned. _Damn, these baseboards are dusty. Oughta ask Marianne t'clean behind the bed._

Ennis paused and leaned forward. "Am I borin' you?" he said. "Maybe I oughta try jugglin' or somethin', 'cause my dick don't seem t'be enough t'hold your attention tonight."

Jack shook his head. "I'm sorry, Ennis. My head jus' ain't in the game. Ain't you. Y'know my fondness for your dick."

Ennis pulled out with a resigned sigh and flopped onto his back. Jack turned over and laid down next to him, staring at the ceiling. "I guess nobody gets t'have great sex all the time," Ennis said.

"I guess."

He turned his head and looked at Jack. "We been pretty lucky there for the mos' part, don't y'think?"

Jack smiled. "Yeah. We got off easy." They stared at each other, the unintentional double entendre hitting them both at once, and the next second they were both laughing like madmen.

"That firs' time weren't so easy, accordin' t'you!" Ennis spluttered.

Jack was almost crying with laughter, the tension of the day releasing into it. He slid closer to Ennis and got himself gradually under control. "That really ain't what I meant," he finally said.

"I know it ain't." Ennis hugged him to his chest, then rolled them both over and looked down into Jack's face. "I _do_ wanna have the party," he said, quietly.

Jack nodded. "If you say so."

Ennis sighed. "Y'don't believe me, do you?"

"Ennis, I know it gives you a bad turn t'have things out in the open. I know you ain't easy with it. But I ain't complainin'. Y'come so far, sometimes I c'n hardly believe how far. Jus' that you're willin' t'wear my ring's enough. Hell, if somebody'd told me seven years ago that you'd be holdin' my hand in church, I'd'a told 'em they were crazy. I know y'done those things against your nature 'cause you knew it's what I wanted, 'n I appreciate it."

Ennis drew back a little. "Y'think I done that all jus' for you?"

"Well…yeah."

He frowned. "Right. 'Cause it ain't possible that I actually _wanted_ t'hold your hand, or that I _wanted_ your fuckin' ring on my finger. Everthin's about you, ain't it?"

"Jesus, Ennis…where'd that come from?"

Ennis rolled onto his back at Jack's side. "I'm sick of it, Jack. I'm sick 'o bein' Cold Fish Ennis, gotta be coaxed 'n drug into everthin'. Yeah, I get nervous 'bout acting couple-like in public, round folks we don't know. But that don't mean I don't _wanna._ And if I do it anyway, it ain't jus' t'make your sorry ass _happy_, y'know. I don't spend every damn minute of every damn day thinkin' 'bout how t'make life sweeter for Jack Fuckin' Twist."

"Fine, I get the point!"

"Do ya? I ain't so sure." He turned to face him. "I know y'think I'm some kinda emotionless slab 'o rock who don't like t'show or say nothin'. Maybe I am, at that. But don't y'know that I wish I weren't? That I wish there weren't nothin' t'be scared of? That I wish t'_hell_ that the world was different, and I was different, and that I _could_ drag you into the middle 'o the town square and kiss the hell outta you and nobody'd turn away, nobody'd shield their child's eyes, and people'd feel happy for us and wish us joy."

Jack saw with alarm that Ennis was starting to cry. He stared at him, speechless and ashamed. "Ennis, I…"

"Aw, fuck it," Ennis said, swiping at his eyes. He sat up and turned away, swinging his legs over the edge of the bed. "Damn you, anyway. Y'always gotta get me _thinkin'_ on stuff I got no words to talk about." He shook his head. "You think 'cause I cain't say things the way you can that I don't _feel_ 'em. That ain't true. It's 'cause I feel 'em fierce that it makes me clam right up 'cause I know I ain't got the right words, the ones that'd make you understand that I'm crazy in love with you, and if I try t'show it then some fucker like Forrester'll hate me for it and he'll come kill us both and then you'll never know it at all."

He trailed off. Jack was shaking all over, because Ennis was right. He _had_, in his secret heart, feared that Ennis must feel less than he did because of his reserve, both physical and verbal. He hadn't really gotten that Ennis's difficulty in expressing himself, whether it was due to fear or his own belief in his verbal inadequacy, was just as frustrating to Ennis as it was to him. He reached out and tugged on Ennis's arm. He immediately let himself be pulled back into bed, into Jack's arms, and whatever Jack had been going to attempt to say through his choked throat was cut off when Ennis attacked him with sudden urgency. The wetness of tears on his face rubbed off onto Jack's until he couldn't tell which of them had been crying. Jack felt like he should be saying something acknowledging Ennis's confession, but his mouth was otherwise occupied, and then his brain was. It was rough and fast, almost like the first time, except that Ennis looked into his eyes when he shoved his legs apart and entered him, quickly, like he'd break if he didn't. Jack's hands scrabbled at Ennis's back and shoulders, his eyes locked on Ennis's. "We are having that fuckin' party," Ennis grunted, "if I gotta sell myself on the streets 'o Boston t'pay for it."

Jack chuckled, arching his neck to kiss him. "How much y'figure you're gonna get for this?" he said, reaching down to grab Ennis's ass as it clenched and thrust between his legs.

"Hnh," Ennis grunted, lowering his head. "You're right," he gasped. "Better sell yours instead." Jack laughed out loud, feeling Ennis's grin against his neck.

They finished in a jumble of laughter, groans, cries and half-intelligible endearments, then lay gasping among the tangled sheets. Jack shook his head. "We are some kinda pair 'o fucked-up assholes, y'know that?"

"Well, at least we got some company in our fuck-upitude."

* * *

Lizzie was quiet at breakfast. Jack and Ennis kept up a running dialogue on neutral topics. The weather, Junior's bungalow, the still-open debate on replacing Miles, and Edgar's upcoming vet results. 

Finally, she spoke up out of the blue. "Well, I'm divorced," she said, bluntly.

Jack glanced at Ennis. "I know, swee'pea. I'm awful sorry. You, uh…you okay?"

She nodded, frowning. "Yeah. I'm surprisingly okay." She looked up at them. "What's wrong with me? Why am I okay? Shouldn't I be devastated and mourning?"

"I dunno. Should you?"

"Shouldn't I be heartbroken? My heart doesn't feel broken. It feels fine. I keep waiting for all the despair and self-doubt and depression. So far, all I've got is…relief."

Ennis shrugged. "I say you're well quit of him."

"Yeah." She fetched a deep sigh. "So I've got to figure out what I'm going to do. I can't mooch off you guys forever."

"You got plans?"

"I sat up most of the night thinking about it, and here's the thing. I don't think I want to go back to the city."

That was good news to Jack, but he tried to keep a neutral expression. "No?"

"What's there for me to go back for? I don't have a job or a husband or even a place to live. It's like somebody handed me a clean slate to start over. Why not start over in Farmingdale?"

"You want to stay here?"

"Why not? I love it here. I feel _whole_ here. I feel like I could write here, I mean my own writing. I can find an apartment in town. Get a job. Maybe I could write for the local paper."

"You mean the Farmingdale Daily Tissue?"

"I could maybe teach at the high school."

"You got a teaching certificate?"

"Uh…no. Look, I don't care. I'll waitress if I have to."

Jack looked at Ennis, reading the same thought in his eyes as was in Jack's own head. "Lizzie, this is ridiculous. Why don't you just stay here? It's stupid for you to get an apartment and some dumb-ass job that'll take up all your time."

"I couldn't do that."

"Why not?"

"I can't just let you guys support me."

"We ain't gonna. You'll earn your keep."

"What the hell am I gonna do on a ranch?"

Jack suddenly realized that he could solve Lizzie's problems and their own labor problems at once. "Y'know…we jus' lost one of our hands. If we hired you t'work in the office, I could spend more time in the field and we wouldn't have t'replace Miles. It'd save us some money."

"What would you need me to do?"

"Nothin' you couldn't handle. Answer the phone. File. Make travel arrangements. Talk t'the boys travelin' out West. You know anythin' 'bout computers?"

"Yes! Lots!"

"Hell, that's worth it right there, if you could get us set up with one."

Liz frowned, thinking, then shook her head again. "I wouldn't want to be underfoot all the time. You guys like your privacy."

Jack grinned. "Swee'pea, what're we buildin' out in the yard right now? Plenty 'o room for you 'n Junior both in that bungalow. Be done in a month. Another month with you in the main house ain't gonna kill us."

Liz blinked. "Well…what if I worked here but got an apartment in town?"

"It'd cost us a lot less t'pay you a boarded-help salary and let you live here than it would t'pay you enough to support yourself." Jack peered at her. "You don't really wanna get an apartment, do you? You're jus' tryin' not t'be no imposition." Liz met his eyes, shamefaced. "You'd really rather live here, wouldn't you?"

"Yes!" she wailed, letting her head drop to the tabletop. "I _love_ this place like it was mine. But it's just too much to ask of you. You guys have done so much for me already, I can't stand too much more of your charity."

"Who said anything about charity? We got a lot of plans, things that're gonna occupy lots of our attention, and you got some skills we c'n use. If we had you in the office, I could be a lot freer t'travel and work in the field." Jack sighed. "And if we done anythin' for you, well…you got no idea what you done for us." Ennis reached out silently and grasped Jack's hand on the table. "Since you come 'n started in with all your nosy-ass questions, you got us talkin' 'bout things we put off for years," he said. "I ain't saying it's _all_ your doin', but some of it is, and that's the truth."

Liz looked over at Ennis. "Ennis, what do you think? You've hardly said a word."

"Jack speaks well enough for me, city gal," he said. "I'd be glad t'have you stay. It'd ease my mind t'have someone stayin' with Junior, too. Stuck out here on this ranch with a bunch 'o men, she'll probably be glad 'o the company."

She sat there for a few beats, thinking, then sighed. "Okay. If you're sure."

The more Jack thought about it, the more it seemed like a good idea. "I'm sure."

She grinned, relaxing. "I can't tell you how relieved I am," she said. "I'd kind of hoped, a little teeny tiny hope, that I could somehow stay here, but…I never thought it'd work out."

Jack got up. "Well, let's get started! I best start showin' you the ropes!"

* * *

Liz had no idea how Jack found anything. Everything _looked_ neat and organized, until you actually tried to discern the system involved and discovered that there was none. Liz had worked as a paralegal for three years before going into journalism, so filing and organization were ingrained into her soul. After listening to her gasp in horror for ten minutes, Jack had thrown up his hands in surrender. "Go ahead! Reorganize it! Do whatever you want! You're the one's gonna have to deal with it from now on, anyway." 

"But…we need filing cabinets, and in/out boxes, and a typewriter, and Rolodexes, and…"

"Here," he said, taking out his wallet and handing her a charge card. "That's the business account. Go to the office-supply store and get what you need. I never could organize for shit, I'm over the moon t'have someone t'do it for me." He'd left her alone to get started. It was barely noon and she already had a headache.

She was sorting the year's receipts into expense-category piles when someone rang the doorbell. She waited, but didn't hear anyone go to answer it. Jack and Ennis were probably out, so she got up to get it herself.

A familiar face waited for her on the other side of the door. "Peter!" she said, smiling. "It's nice to see you!"

"Hello, Liz."

"Come in." She shut the door behind him. "What brings you here? Ennis and Jack aren't in…"

"Actually, I came to see you."

"Really?"

"I hear you're going to be joining our little community permanently."

Liz blinked, surprised. "Boy, Ennis wasn't kidding. Tongues _do_ wag around here."

He smiled. "Jack called me this morning to ask me when I could fit you in for a physical exam.'

"A…a what? An exam?"

"It's required for you to be added to the ranch's health insurance."

"Oh," Liz said, the light dawning. She wasn't too sure how comfortable she felt having Peter examine her, though.

"I told him we could get you in later in the week, but that I'd have Dr. Fellowes do the exam."

"I see. So what day should I…"

"Would you like to have dinner with me sometime?" Peter said in a rush, trampling over the end of Liz's question, his smile frozen and his eyes fixed wide in that panicked oh-my-God expression men got when they were trying to stay cool.

"Peter, are you asking me out? On a date?" she said, smiling.

He shuffled. "I don't know. It's been awhile. What constitutes a date these days?"

"Were you going to pick me up?"

"Yes."

"And take me to dinner?"

"Yes."

"And were you hoping for a good-night kiss?"

He blushed. "I, uh…wouldn't turn one down if it was offered."

"Then I think that's a date."

"Only if you say yes."

Liz waited to feel unsure, or uncomfortable with the idea of seeing someone new so soon after signing those blue-backed papers. She waited for an image of Jack to float up in her mind, Jack who she could never have, Jack whose employ and whose household she was about to join…Jack, whose appeal to her may have served its purpose. She waited to have doubts.

After a few seconds, she grew tired of waiting. "I'd like that, Peter."

He grinned, and once again, she marveled at how different it made him look. "Great."

"When?"

"Uh…Friday? Seven o'clock?"

"I'll see you then."

He looked almost comically relieved. "Good. That's good, then. Okay, I'll just, uh…I'll look forward to it." He stuck out his hand and Liz shook it; in a sudden rush of optimism and bonhomie, she leaned forward and kissed his cheek. Peter blinked in surprise.

Liz shrugged, releasing his hand. "Just in case we forget to say good-night."

Peter stammered his way out the door, waving good-bye, and Liz tried to remember how long it had been since she'd met a man who was still capable of being flummoxed by a simple peck on the cheek.

She headed to the back door, thinking she'd go find the guys and tell them about her big date, but a small rustling sound stopped her just outside the kitchen door. She heard a low chuckle, the sexy kind. She peeked around the doorway carefully, not wanting to interrupt anything.

Jack and Ennis were standing in the shadows of the patio doorway, necking. Ennis had Jack pressed up against the doorjamb and was kissing him in a slow, relaxed fashion, his hands all over Jack's ass. Jack was hanging on to Ennis's beltloops; as she watched, his hands slid up his chest and around his shoulders.

Liz had spied them kissing once before, but that had been a more urgent, about-to-have-sex kiss. This was different. It was leisurely, a brief respite in their ordinary daily routine, a few stolen moments hidden in a corner. They were kissing each other's lips and faces, ducking their heads to nuzzle at each other's necks, murmuring snatches of conversation in voices too quiet for Liz to hear the words, smiling and laughing softly between kisses.

She made herself watch for a few moments, to test her infatuation with Jack. Did it even exist anymore? Why had it even existed in the first place? Maybe it had just been a reaction to Charlie's inattention. That was all moot now. Did she envy Ennis's position? Did she feel jealous, and wish she could be the one kissing Jack?

She did her best to plumb the depths of her psyche, unpleasant as the depths could be. She looked at Jack, his blue eyes focused wholly on Ennis. He was attractive. Her opinion on that score hadn't changed. But then she looked at Ennis. He was attractive, too. So was Tom Selleck. Lately she'd been developing a crush on Pierce Brosnan.

She looked away and went back to the office, leaving her fellas to their little noontime makeout. As she resumed her place in her own personal organizational nightmare, she found that her thoughts were not drifting towards Jack, but towards her upcoming date with Peter. Peter with his beanpole silhouette, his fluffy kid-on-a-schoolyard hair and his big bright smile.

* * *

Jack came in around three, his eyes widening at the stacks and drifts of paperwork and file folders. "Wow. You ain't wastin' no time, are you?" 

"How the hell did you run a business like this?" she cried.

"Well, I sure as hell cain't run one like _this,_" he said, looking around at the mess.

"I'll have all this organized in a few days. I just called the office supply store, they're going to deliver everything tomorrow morning."

"Okay." He sat down. "Listen up, here's the thing. If I was t'hire a real secretary…uh, not that you ain't real, or nothin'…"

She smiled. "I know what you mean."

"Right. If I was t'do that, it'd cost me about thirteen grand a year. I asked around, and most folks that hire boarded help knock off about a third 'o the non-boarded salary. So how's about we pay you ten grand a year, plus medical 'n dental?"

"You don't have to pay me anything at all, as far as I'm concerned."

"Naw, that ain't how it's gonna be. You ain't slave labor. Y'gotta have some money of your own. You don't wanna come t'me or Ennis every time you wanna buy a sweater, do you?"

Liz hadn't thought of it like that. "I guess you're right."

"Anyway, if I had t'replace Miles, it'd cost me twenty grand a year. So you're savin' me ten grand, swee'pea."

"But you wouldn't have to pay for Miles's room and board."

"The bungalow's gonna cost us the same whether you're in it or not. And you're tellin' me that you're gonna eat ten grand worth of food in a year?"

"Hmm. Probably not."

"I sure's hell hope not."

"Then…I guess it's all settled."

"Looks that way." He cocked his head. "You still look troubled."

"I just feel guilty, Jack. I know it seems like I've been here forever, but I've only known you a few months. How can you and Ennis just take me in, and treat me like I'm one of the family, and…" She felt herself choking up and took a moment. "God, my _own_ family isn't this generous to me."

He sat back. "Do you know how long me'n Ennis were up on Brokeback that first summer?"

"No. How long?"

"Eight weeks. That's all. And we spent the first two bein' barely more'n strangers. Six weeks, and it done us both in for good. That's all the time it took for me t'know that he was the only one, and to ruin us for anybody else." He smiled. "It ain't how long you know somebody, Lizzie. It's how folks click. You clicked with us, real quick. Don't you think so?"

She nodded. "Yeah, I think so."

"Then quit talkin' like you're some kinda charity case, okay? We didn't want you here, you wouldn't be here. Got it?"

Liz sighed. "Okay. I got it. I won't bring it up again."

"Good. Now. Once you get all this organized, I got a real important job for you."

"What's that?"

"Can you please, for the love of God, plan this fuckin' party? I know it was my idea, but I ain't got the first goddamned clue how t'go about it."

She grinned. "Oh, Jack. That's a dangerous assignment. You're gonna bring out the sleeping debutante in me."

"I don't care, as long as I don't gotta worry about it."

"Then leave everything to me." He got up and started to leave. "Oh, Jack?"

"What?"

"Do you want male or female strippers at this party? Hmm…maybe both. That'd take care of everybody."

He got a horrified look on his face for a moment, then realized she was yanking his chain. He shook a finger at her. "You wanna watch that smartass mouth, Elizabeth."

She chuckled. "That isn't my name, actually."

He frowned. "It isn't?"

"No. It's Elspeth. Kind of a different version of Elizabeth."

Jack contemplated this. "Huh. That's real pretty."

"And I'm going back to my maiden name. As soon as possible."

"What is it?"

"Baskerville."

"Elspeth Baskerville," Jack said, testing the name. "Sounds like the lady 'o some English manor."

"My grandfather is British. And no, he doesn't have any hounds." She waited, but Jack just looked at her blankly. She made a note to get him some Conan Doyle. He'd like it. "I'll get right to planning that party. Anything particular you want?"

"Just people and food. And booze. Maybe music. Call Marty Linebeck, she's the party queen around here." He started to leave again.

"Jack?" He turned back. Liz got up off the floor, went to the doorway and hugged him hard. "Thank you."

He hugged her back. "You might not thank me when you get a look at the mess I've made of the tax records."


	25. Chapter 24

_**February, 1976**_

_Jack waited. It was a long wait, made longer by anxiety. He paced a track in Ennis's floorboards, rehearsing what he'd say when Ennis returned. What argument could he use to make him agree? What words could he find that he hadn't already tried? Seemed he'd tried every word in the dictionary and Ennis hadn't budged._

_But things were different now, he told himself. Ennis was divorced, he'd asked Jack to stay...maybe, just maybe, he was changing his mind. Maybe this time he'd listen._

_Finally, as the sun was dipping below the horizon, he heard the sound of Ennis's truck pulling into the yard. Jack wondered if he ought to hug him, or kiss him, or just launch into his spiel. Would Ennis want to have sex first? Would he want to talk? He didn't know what to expect. There was no protocol in their history to prepare him. He'd never been inside Ennis's house before, tramping on his turf, making incursions into his sequestered Jack-free life._

_Ennis came in and closed the door, then stood right up against it, like he was keeping his back to the wall to prevent ambush. He eyed Jack, an untidy mixture of apprehension and excitement on his face. "I cain't believe you did this," he began, not even bothering with a greeting. He shook his head and looked down at the floor. "I guess I ought not t'be surprised. Jus' like you t'drive sixteen hours 'cause 'o one phone call."_

_Jack took a step forward. "Well, why else did y'call me, then?" Ennis glanced up at him, the embarrassed denial going unsaid. Jack took another step. "What'd you think was gonna happen?" Ennis shrugged, keeping his eyes on his shoes, gnawing on his thumbnail, as he did when he was anxious. The thought flitted through Jack's mind that it was incredible how well he knew Ennis's habits, given the sadly short amount of time they'd spent together. "Look, you asked me t'stay so we could talk. So, let's talk." Jack sat down in one of Ennis's two chairs. After a brief hesitation and a quick glance at Jack's face, Ennis sat in the other one, leaning forward with his arms on his knees._

_"What d'you want t'talk about?" he asked._

_Jack sighed, his patience spinning out thinner and thinner. "Dammit, Ennis, you know what I want. It's the same thing I've always wanted. That ain't never changed, but you weren't never willin' to even entertain the notion."_

_Ennis raised his head and met Jack's eyes. "You'd really do it, wouldn't you? You ain't jus' spitballin' or wishin' out loud. You'd chuck it all. Leave your family, your job, your boy, jus' t'be with me."_

_"Yes, damn you!" Jack said, frustration roughening his voice. He reached out briefly, wondering if he could choke understanding into Ennis if words didn't do the trick. "What the fuck've I been sayin' all these years? All I ever wanted was jus' t'be with you, you stubborn son of a bitch."_

_"How c'n you be so..." Ennis flapped a hand, like the right word might flutter down and land on it. Jack knew what he meant._

_"Times I wish I wasn't," Jack said. "It ain't easy. You know what it's like. Y'got one life but want another, you're with one person but want t'be with another. I had my share 'o sleepless nights over you." Ennis was nodding, staring at his hands. "I had times I jus' wanted it t'go away. Then maybe I could be happy with Lureen, 'n be the kind 'o husband she deserves." Jack reached out and grasped Ennis's hand in his own. "But it don't never go away. Fact is, cowboy, that I don't know how to quit you. What's more, I don't never want live t'see a time when I start wishin' that I did, and I can see that time comin'."_

_Ennis was squeezing his hand, his eyes still downcast. "Yeah," he said, almost too quietly for Jack to hear._

_"Goddammit, Ennis. Let's do it. What the hell are we waitin' for? What're we afraid of?"_

_Ennis shook his head. "Jack, y'know I wish it was that simple, but...two men ranchin' up together, it ain't gonna fly. We'd be beat or killed or worse."_

_Jack took a breath. "Is that your only stickin' point? That y'think folks'd hate us?"_

_Ennis shrugged. "I don't know."_

_"What if I told you that there were places where it ain't like that?"_

_He snorted. "And where's that, Jack? Some kinda fairy-tale land over the fuckin' rainbow?"_

_"Hell, no. It's a big-ass country, Ennis, and some places got folks who understand about...well, about fellas like us." Ennis said nothing, but his silence encouraged Jack to continue. "I was at this trade show, and I met this pig farmer. He was, uh...well, he was queer. Him and his fella own a place together. We got t'talkin...don't look at me like that, I didn't tell him nothin', I jus' asked him a few questions. He said that he ain't never had no trouble where he is, and that folks are nice."_

_Ennis grunted. "And where's he live?"_

_"New Hampshire."_

_"New Hampshire?" Ennis stared at him. "That's clear on the other side 'o the country, Jack!"_

_"Will y'listen t'me, already? I, uh...I done some checkin'. Up there, and especially in Vermont...well, I ain't gonna say that no one's got no troubles, but mostly they're friendly. Lots 'o folks like us live there, and they live free 'n open, together. Own land, run farms, even have kids 'o their own."_

_"I cain't go that far away. The girls..."_

_"The girls see you once a month, if that," Jack said, gently. This was where he had to be the most cautious, because he didn't want to belittle Ennis's attachment to his daughters. "And don't you think they'd be better off with a daddy who's happy? And maybe more successful? They see you livin' like this...fuck, Ennis, I know you. It'll only get worse. You gonna burrow further and further into your little shell and live sad and alone, and someday those girls are gonna know that it's on their account that you stayed here and lived your miserable fuckin' life. How's that gonna make 'em feel?" He got up and squatted in front of Ennis. "Jus' think of it. Our own ranch. We c'd make it run real well, I know it. I been doin' some research, and I think I know how t'make it turn a handy profit. The girls can come visit all the time, you can come back here t'see 'em. Bobby, too." He sensed Ennis weakening, and took his other hand so he had both of Ennis's in both of his. "Ennis...you told me once that you never shoulda let me outta your sight after Brokeback. Y'still feel that way?"_

_Ennis said nothing for a moment, but Jack could see the shine of moisture at his eyelids. "Worst mistake I ever made," he whispered hoarsely. "Shames me awful, 'cause it was all from bein' scared."_

_"Then don't be scared no more. We could set it right. It ain't too late. Ain't never too late, not unless y'give up."_

_Ennis was running his thumbs over Jack's knuckles, thoughtful and hesitant. "Y'say that...in Vermont...there's guys livin' together? And no one gives 'em no trouble?" At long last, he met Jack's gaze. Jack could see the echoes of his long-ago childhood horror, and the fear of the same fate coming upon himself or Jack._

_"That's right," Jack said. "Guy I met at the show said he'n his fella go to church, and folks come to their house visitin', and they got lotsa friends." Ennis dropped his eyes again. Jack lowered his head, trying to catch his gaze. "It could be like that for us," he murmured. Ennis still said nothing. "Dammit, Ennis. We ain't bad guys. Why do we hafta be apart and miserable our whole lives? It ain't right. Don't we deserve t'be happy like other folks?"_

_Ennis sighed. "Maybe we don't. Maybe that's jus' the price we gotta pay for..." He hesitated, his voice dropping. "For bein' like this."_

_"I don't believe that," Jack said, his vehemence making Ennis jump a little and look up at him. "Does it feel wrong t'you when we're together?"_

_Ennis was staring into his eyes with an intensity that made Jack a little uneasy. He dropped one of Jack's hands and cupped his face, his touch rough and demanding. "No," he said. "It's the only fuckin' thing that feels right most 'o the time."_

_Jack gripped Ennis's wrist. "Do you want t'be with me? No, don't tell me why it cain't be, don't fuckin' run away, don't gimme no excuses. Just tell me, straight up, do you want us t'be together?" Ennis started to shake his head, his mouth opening, but Jack cut him off. "Jus' tell me the fuckin' truth, goddammit!" he shouted._

_"Yes!" Ennis shouted back, his hand gripping Jack's neck. "Yes, okay? I always wanted it, asshole!"_

_"Then for God's sake, let's do it! Let's try! Y'cain't spend your whole life puttin' yourself on a fuckin' slab so's nobody else'll be troubled none. What about you? Don't you matter? Life's too fuckin' short, cowboy. We oughta try and find some happiness. Everybody deserves that, even a coupla sons of bitches like us."_

_Ennis was just staring at him; Jack could feel him trembling through the hand on his neck. Jack said nothing, wondering what the hell would come out of Ennis's mouth next. His mouth fell open but no sound emerged for a moment. He looked down, then back at Jack's face. "Okay," he breathed, the word riding out on an exhale._

_Jack blinked. "Okay?"_

_"Okay." A little stronger this time._

_Jack shook his head. "Oh, Ennis. You ain't so cruel as t'fuck with me. Don't you be sayin' that lightly."_

_"I ever say anythin' lightly?"_

_"No, but..." Jack's heart was thudding like he'd just had an awful fright. "Really? You fuckin' serious?"_

_Ennis nodded, seeming more sure with each passing moment. "Yeah. If there's a place where it gets by..." He lifted his other hand to Jack's neck as well. "Dammit, I cain't believe I'm sayin' this, but...fuck, if we could really have that life, that sweet life you used t'talk about, someplace safe, then let's do it."_

_Jack laughed, but it had a half-sobbing quality, too. He reached up and seized Ennis's face just as Ennis pulled him close to kiss him. Jack drew back. "You ain't gonna change your mind tomorrow, are you? 'Cause there's gonna be tough times...tellin' our families, and movin'..."_

_"I ain't never changed m'mind once it's set." Ennis took a deep breath. "Them tough times'll pass, won't they? I had plenty 'o tough times before. Least I won't be alone in 'em." Ennis ran one hand down Jack's face, his expression filling with a kind of tenderness that Jack had never seen there. Ennis looked away, blinking quickly, then turned back. "Jack...I..." He sighed, frustrations pinching at his features._

_Jack just nodded. "I know, Ennis."_

_"I jus'...I cain't say..."_

_"Shush now." Jack stood up and pulled Ennis to his feet, then led him towards the bedroom. "Show me instead."_

_

* * *

_

_**August 25, 1983**  
...one week until the party..._

_

* * *

_

Liz heard the back door bang open. "Lizzie!" Jack yelled, sounding like he was in high dudgeon about something. She shook her head, keeping her eyes on the ledger. She heard him stomping into the kitchen, then a clatter and a few thumps, followed by a muttered "Goddammit." She rolled her eyes. "Lizzie!" he yelled again, bursting into the office. "Where the hell are my..." He cut himself off when he saw Liz wordlessly holding out his keyring. He took them, frowning.

"You left them in the bathroom," she said. "What's with you?"

"Aw, hell, I'm just...goddamned bungalow's not done and Junior's gonna be here in three days..."

"It'll be done. The appliances are in, the decorator's moving the furniture in tomorrow."

"I never thought I'd ever, in my whole life, hire a _decorator,_" Jack said, sitting down in the wing chair.

"Somebody's got to paint the walls and put up curtains. You didn't want to pick out tile for the bathroom yourself, did you? Oh, and I thought I'd just pay Marianne extra to clean the place of all the dust and construction mess."

"Whatever."

"I wrote out a check for Junior's tuition today, so she's all set up."

"From the business account, right?"

Liz blinked. "Uh, no...from the personal."

Jack's eyes widened in alarm. "You send it yet?"

"No, it's right here," she said, picking up the envelope in the Out basket.

"Oh, good. The business is payin' for Junior's college, swee'pea." He nodded towards the envelope in her hands. "That woulda bounced. I'd have to transfer money from savings to cover it."

Liz pressed her lips together, mortified. "Guess I better write a new one."

"Guess so." He looked around at the filing cabinets, the neatly organized task lists on the white board, the stacked in/out boxes on the desk. "I gotta say, you done a helluva job organizing this place."

Liz smiled. It had been a lot of work, but she was pleased with the results. "Thanks, Jack."

"Of course, now I got no fuckin' clue where anything is..."

She laughed. "Job security. You don't dare get rid of me."

He grinned. "Like we would anyway." He stood up, then bent and kissed the top of her head. "See you at lunch." He paused in the doorway. "Hey, you know where Ennis is? I ain't seen him since breakfast."

"Nope. Haven't seen him." In fact, Liz knew exactly where Ennis was, but was under strict instructions to keep it to herself.

Ennis returned to the ranch just before noon. Liz stashed the important item he'd gone to Burlington to collect in her room before going into the kitchen. Jack and Ennis were already at the table, discussing what to do with Jack's Mercedes. "Junior's gonna need a car. I say we trade it in for somethin' more practical," Ennis was saying.

"Why cain't she just drive the Mercedes?"

"Ain't that a little...I dunno. Show-offy?"

"Maybe it'll help her score some rich fella," Jack said, dropping a wink at Liz.

"Okay, don't ever say nothin' like _that_ ever again."

Liz frowned. "I don't think many rich fellas go to the Community College of Vermont," she said.

"Hey, where were you all mornin'?" Jack said to Ennis. "I coulda used your help with the calves."

"Had somethin' t'pick up in Burlington."

"What?"

Ennis glanced at Liz, then turned back to Jack. "Somethin' for you."

Jack frowned, his spoon halfway to his mouth. "For me?"

Ennis got up. "C'mon, I'll show you. Liz? Wanna get that thing?"

Liz darted into her room and hauled out the large, rather cumbersome, paper-wrapped rectangle. She carried it out to the living room and set it up against the hearth. Jack looked perplexed. "What's that?"

"Open it," Ennis said.

Jack leaned over and tore the brown wrapping off. He just stood there, staring, as the clock ticked on the wall. "Aw hell, cowboy," he breathed, sounding a little shaky.

Leaning up against the fireplace was a beautiful mahogany shadowbox frame; mounted inside it on dark blue felt was Bobby's football jersey. It was neatly folded to display his name in white letters across the shoulders. The base of the shadowbox contained a smaller inset, in which was framed a photograph of Bobby in the uniform, smiling and sweaty after a game, looking heartbreakingly alive and cloaked in immortality. Jack squatted down to look at the photo more closely.

"Where'd you get this?" he murmured.

"From Lureen."

Jack looked around. "You called Lureen?"

Ennis nodded. "Needed the photo, didn't I?"

Jack straightened up and stood next to Ennis, his eyes still on the jersey. "I dunno what t'say," he said quietly. "It's perfect." He met Ennis's eyes, then reached out and pulled him into a tight embrace. "Thank you," he choked out.

Ennis hugged him back, murmuring something under his breath into Jack's ear that Liz couldn't hear. She looked away until Jack stepped back, sniffling a little. Ennis picked up the framed jersey. "All we gotta do now is hang it."

* * *

The next day, Liz was anticipating a visitor: Max, her former next-door neighbor and cohort. He had been keeping her things while the bungalow was being built, and now he was driving up from the city to bring everything to her new home. 

"Oh, Max, why don't I just rent a truck and drive down?" she'd said on the phone with him the week before. "I hate to make you come all this way..."

"I don't mind," Max said. "I need to get out of this godforsaken city once in awhile. Besides, I _have_ to meet your cowboys, after all I've heard about them. If I'm going to lose my only friend in the building to this bucolic hideaway, then at least I want to see the place."

So, Liz had broached the topic with her cowboys. "Do you guys mind if my friend Max stays overnight? It's a long drive from New York to come here and go back in one day."

"This is your architect friend?" Ennis asked.

"Yes. My neighbor from when I lived with Charlie."

"Single fella?"

"Yes."

"Hmph," Ennis said. "Is he queer?" he said, looking dubious.

Liz cocked an eyebrow. "You know, Ennis, it _is_ possible to be male, single and not gay."

"I'm jus' askin'! Wasn't that him called here last week? 'Cause he sounded like maybe he was queer."

"How would you know what queer sounds like? And he's not gay! He's _British!_ Are you looking for a date for the weekend or something?"

Ennis flushed. "That ain't what I meant," he said. "And you ain't helpin'!" he said to Jack, who was chortling in his reading chair.

"Anyway, would it matter if he was? You're saying he _wouldn't_ be welcome to stay here if he was gay?"

"Aw, hell...forget I said anythin'. Why doesn't he jus' move in, then? Everbody else in the goddamned world seems t'be!"

"What's he bringin' you?" Jack said, changing the subject. "He already sent your clothes, didn't he?"

"He sent me two boxes, just enough so I wouldn't be wearing the same two outfits over and over. I have a lot more clothes than that. Plus there's my books, and my albums, and all my pictures..." She sighed. "My whole damned life. It's only because of Max I'm getting it back at all. He'd like to drive up tomorrow, so...is it okay if he stays overnight?"

"Course it is," Jack said. "You live here too, now, 'n you c'n have guests if you want."

So now Liz was waiting eagerly to see Max drive up in the pickup truck he'd borrowed from his construction foreman, glancing frequently out the window of the office as she worked.

She could hardly believe it was only a month since she'd called Ennis, in tears, after being unceremoniously dumped. The time had flown. Between organizing the office, learning the business, and planning the party, her days had been jam-packed. It was damned good to feel useful again, something she'd rarely felt in the freelance journalism business. If she'd ever been able to write something that _meant_ anything, something that affected people, it might have felt less hollow.

She thought of the stacks of notes Max would be bringing her, the body of work she'd already done on the book she'd hoped to write...the book that she no longer thought she had the stomach to write. This was her life now, and Jack and Ennis were just about the closest friends she had in the world, and she didn't know if she could handle it.

The month she'd been here had brought her even further into their day-to-day lives. She was aware that her initial visit had coincided with an uncommon run of unpleasantness, and some part of her had wondered if it was like that all the time. Happily, it didn't seem to be. Life on the ranch was profoundly uneventful most of the time. After breakfast, she'd go into the office while Jack and Ennis headed outdoors. Sometimes Jack was in the office to help her with something or take care of his own business, but more often than not she didn't see them again until lunch, and after that, not until dinner. Evenings were sometimes occupied by visits with friends, and she'd had a fair number of dates with Peter to pass the time. Otherwise, the three of them would sit around the living room watching TV and paying varying amounts of attention to their respective books or magazines. Then it was off to bed to do it all over again the next day.

She thought often of the hidden makeout session she'd witnessed a few moments of shortly after her arrival. She knew now that such a thing wasn't exactly the norm, but they both seemed more relaxed around her now, Ennis in particular. He no longer hesitated to touch Jack in her presence, but his reserve returned when anyone else was there, even Peter.

Her reverie was interrupted by the phone ringing. "Brokeback Ranch, this is Liz."

"Hmm. You know, from a business standpoint, it might not be the best idea to have a woman with such a sexy voice answering the phone. It distracts potential customers and makes them forget why they called."

Liz smiled, feeling her cheeks heat up. "Ha ha, very funny."

"I'm totally and completely serious. Right now, for example, I have no recollection of why I called, either. Your sexy voice has wiped my brain completely clean."

"I thought you had patients all day."

"Had a cancellation. Want to have lunch?"

"Oh, I'd love to, but I can't. I'm waiting for Max to get here, which should be soon. Are you coming over tonight? Max is dying to meet you."

"I don't know. He might talk about Charlie, and you know how that makes me angry. And, uh...you wouldn't like me when I'm angry."

"I know. You turn green and your clothes rip right off you...which, honestly, works out nicely for me. Saves me the trouble."

"You are such a brazen hussy. How have I gotten myself involved with such a brazen hussy?"

"Just lucky, I guess." Liz was grinning by now. In fact, she and Peter had not slept together yet. They'd engaged in a few heated makeout sessions on his couch, but had gone no farther. But as their intimacy had progressed, the level of sexually-charged badinage had risen in parallel. "But you _are_ coming over, aren't you?"

"Of course I am, I'm just giving you shit."

"Thanks. I work on a ranch. I have enough shit at my immediate disposal for an army."

"Then I guess I'll just have to give you a hard time."

"Hmm. That sounds like fun," she said, curling her words into the double entendre she fully intended them to be.

Peter laughed. "Well, if my girlfriend won't have lunch with me, I guess I'd better get back to work. Sick people are just so _demanding._"

"Am I?"

"What?"

"Your girlfriend."

"I hope so. I'm not in the habit of feeling up casual acquaintances."

Liz giggled, feeling buoyant and girlish in a way she hadn't since she'd first met Charlie. She immediately banished _that_ comparison. Peter was nothing like Charlie, and thank God for that. "I feel like I'm too old to use the word 'boyfriend.' It's so study-hall."

"Well, I could call you my 'special lady friend,' but that sounds like we ought to be going to Bingo night and smearing Ben-Gay on each other while our teeth sit in glasses of Efferdent on the nightstand."

She laughed. "Back to work, honey."

"See you tonight."

Liz hung up with a sigh, propping her chin on her hand and gazing out the window towards the drive. She passed the time waiting for Max by imagining Peter at work, wearing his white doctor's coat with the words "Dr. Peter Llewellyn" stitched in confidence-inspiring blue over his chest, chucking kids under the chin while he checked their glands, reassuring anxious pregnant women, dispensing advice and caring more than he got paid to care.

The time passed quickly.

* * *

"So I _ran_ back upstairs to my flat and put on my robe, like I'd just gotten up, see?" Max said, gesturing emphatically. Liz, Peter, Jack and Ennis were all leaning forward, listening with rapt expressions. "And I'm waiting, because I know he's coming right back up. So he pounds on the door, and I open it oh so casual, and say 'Can I help you, my good man?'" Liz laughed. "His face is red as a baboon's arse at this point. And he says 'Where the fuck's my fucking car!'" Max screeched this last sentence in a shrill, overcaffeinated yodel. Everyone laughed. "I stayed calm. I was very 007. I said, 'You'll find out where your car is when you let me into that flat to go through all the books. I know goddamned well some of them have Liz's name in them, and you're not keeping them!'" Max shrugged. "He caved like Carlsbad."

"How'd you move the car?" Ennis asked, frowning.

"Duplicate set of keys, care of Miss Liz here," he said, reaching into his pocket. "You better take this back. Just in case." He handed her a car key, shaking his head. "I don't mind saying that it's been like guerrilla warfare with that man since you've been gone. I'm not even going to _tell_ you what I had to go through to steal back your college scrapbooks."

Peter looked confused. "Why would Charlie keep all those things? You'd think he'd _want_ to be rid of all of it."

Liz sighed. "He's probably just pissed at me for not being a content little trophy wife and putting him through all the trouble of getting rid of me. But it's all over now. The only thing of mine that's still in that apartment is my Kirby vacuum cleaner and he can have it."

Max was looking around at the house. "This place is brilliant," he said. "It's so North Woods rustic. Who designed it?"

Jack and Ennis glanced at each other. "We just told our builder we wanted a house. He did the rest."

Max looked horrified at this lack of attention to architectural aesthetic. "You just said you wanted a _house?_"

Jack shrugged. "We ain't picky. Hell, we spent the summer we met livin' in dirty old tents."

"Well, I'm sure going to miss my girl here," Max said, smiling at Liz. "But I'm glad she's well shut of that arsehole of a husband."

Liz smiled at Max, then felt Peter take her hand under the table. "We're glad, too," he said quietly, but when she looked at him, she could see that even though he'd said "we're," what he'd meant was "I'm."

At that moment, his pager went off. He released her hand and unclipped the irritating little device from his belt, checking the number. "It's the hospital." He got up and went into the kitchen to use the phone.

Max shook his head. "Perils of dating a doctor."

"I hate that thing," Liz said. "I know it's his job, and I understand, but...I still hate that thing."

Max turned to Jack and Ennis. "So, how long have you blokes been together?" Liz winced a little at Max's frankness. The blokes, as it were, weren't known for being forthcoming about their personal details with strangers. To her surprise, they didn't seem particularly put off.

They were, on the other hand, in disagreement about the correct answer. Jack said "Twenty years" while at the same time Ennis said "Seven years."

Max smirked. "My, that's quite a discrepancy. Anniversaries must be awkward for you."

Jack cleared his throat. "Well...we've _known_ each other twenty years. We moved here seven years ago."

"And what was going on for the other thirteen?"

Jack sighed. "We tried to do what we were supposed to do."

"Do either of you have kids?"

Liz saw Ennis glance at Jack, who was just looking down at the table with no hint that he intended to respond. "I have two daughters," Ennis said. "You know that's why we built that bungalow, 'cause my oldest is comin' out here t'live."

"Right, of course." Max seemed to sense that Jack's fatherhood or lack thereof was a sensitive subject, so he didn't press the matter.

Peter returned from the kitchen, looking upset. Liz frowned. "What's wrong?"

"Paul McGill's been in an accident," he said. That got everyone's attention.

"Accident?" Ennis said, and Liz heard the suspicion in his voice.

"Somebody cut the brake lines on his bike. When he was riding home he couldn't stop at a crosswalk and he shot right out into traffic. A car hit him."

Liz gasped. "Oh my God, is he all right?"

"Yeah. He broke an arm, few cuts and scrapes."

Ennis looked thunderous. "Those sons 'o bitches," he growled.

Peter put up a hand. "We don't know who did it. Might have just been some kids getting up to mischief."

Jack was shaking his head. "That's bullshit and you know it, Pete. When kids get up to mischief they toilet-paper houses and spray-paint dumpsters. They don't cut somebody's brake lines and slink away without a word."

Peter looked like he knew Jack was right, but didn't want to admit it. "Anyway, I'm going to go over and look at his X-rays. If his arm's badly broken I'll have to take him into Burlington and have it fixed."

Liz got up and accompanied him to the door, hearing Jack and Ennis filling Max in on the recent history of gay-bashing incidents in Farmingdale. "Let us know if Paul goes up to Burlington," she said, hanging on to Peter's hand.

He nodded. She could tell by his preoccupied expression that his mind was already halfway to the hospital. "Not how I'd hoped to end the evening," he said, his eyes flicking to her face.

She put her free hand on his face and kissed him. "Drive careful."

Peter just looked at her for a moment, then leaned in and kissed her again, more thoroughly. "I'll call you later," he said quietly, then squeezed her hand and left.

* * *

Clearly, Ennis was in one of those moods.

Jack had been lying here for quite some time, just letting his mind go blank. Ennis was leaning over him, propped up on one elbow, kissing him. That was all. He didn't seem to have the goal of further intimacy in mind.

Ennis occasionally got into odd moods where all he wanted to do was kiss. Jack suspected that it was a test; that Ennis was trying to prove that he could stand to just kiss without wanting to move things along. If he could, that meant that their relationship wasn't all about the sex, a distinction that Ennis was always very keen to preserve. He frequently wanted to establish that he wasn't just here for the sex, and to be reassured that Jack wasn't, either. Jack suspected that Ennis was so paranoid about that because secretly, deep down, he knew that their first time together _had_ been all about the sex.

That didn't bother Jack. It had been a cold night, he'd wanted Ennis, it had been a quick, half-drunk screw in the tent. Although the foundations were there, the real feelings had come later, and that was okay with him. It wasn't so okay with Ennis. It bothered him to think that he'd wanted Jack and had taken him, because Ennis Del Mar wasn't no queer. Men didn't get him off, oh no. Even now, he was reluctant to admit, or to let it be known, that he was physically attracted to Jack. He would rather give the impression that his deep feelings for Jack had overcome his fundamental objections to Jack's maleness, taking the sex out of the equation entirely and placing their relationship on some mythical, soulful (and to Jack's mind, ridiculous) level that transcended genitalia.

This bothered Jack for a number of reasons. He knew damned well that Ennis was just as enthusiastic about their sex life as he was. Ennis had spent enough time touching, kissing and otherwise appreciating his body for Jack to know that it wasn't repulsive to him, nor was having sex with him something Ennis tolerated only for the sake of their supposedly too-pure-to-be-horny love. To pretend otherwise was, to his way of thinking, dishonest. He also resented the implication that his maleness was something Ennis had to struggle to get past. He knew for a fact (because Ennis had told him so) that his male attitudes, manner and, to be frank, libido were things that Ennis appreciated.

He also wished Ennis could let go of his "I ain't queer" conceit. Maybe he wasn't what _he_ thought of as queer, but that didn't make him any less homosexual. Ennis might not be a flaming queen or a cross-dresser, but he still fucked another man on a daily basis. Check and mate. It ought to be okay for Ennis to admit that he'd taken the odd glance at Willy the ranch-hand's ass. Throwing his hat into the ring with other men who loved men didn't automatically sign him up for the Pansy Brigade. Jack wished Ennis could be a little more secure in his own identity that such a label wouldn't threaten it.

But he said nothing. None of these things had ever bothered him enough to make an issue of them. It was just another quirk of their relationship that he'd learned to accept.

Besides, it wasn't as if lying in bed being kissed by Ennis was any kind of a hardship for him.

Ennis drew back and ran one hand down Jack's cheek, a thoughtful little smile on his face. "Somethin' on your mind, chief?" Jack asked.

He hesitated so long before answering that Jack began to wonder if he'd heard him. "How'd we live apart for all them years?" he murmured.

"We didn't know any better."

Ennis was starting to look a little distressed. "I'm jus' scared 'o losin' it."

"I know."

"It's that damn bill comin' due. I keep rackin' up more 'n more charges. Now I got my daughter comin' home t'me, and you out on the ranch with me every day...it's all goin' too right. Cain't last."

"You could _try_ being a little less superstitious, y'know." He sighed. The possible disruption of their protected existence was on his mind, too. Peter had called about an hour after leaving for the hospital, reporting that Paul's arm was a clean break, easily set, and that he'd be fine. That did not, however, ease their apprehension about this potentially hate-motivated attack on their friend. "Ennis, we could worry 'bout it till we give ourselves ulcers 'n go 'round lookin' over our shoulders all the time but it wouldn't do no good, and it'd just take over our lives. Best thing is jus' t'go on as usual." He slid over so he was under Ennis a little more, arching his neck up to kiss him.

"You comin' with me t'pick up Junior?" Ennis murmured, tipping his head back as Jack nuzzled at his neck.

"If you want me to."

"Course I do." Ennis pressed Jack down into the mattress, reclaiming his mouth...and _this_ kiss was definitely going somewhere.

* * *

Liz walked Max out to his newly-emptied truck. Jack and Ennis had just left for Burlington to pick up Junior, so she'd soon be alone in the house. Max turned to look up at it. "This is quite a place, lady. I can see why you love it."

She smiled. "It's not just the house."

He looked thoughtful. "Your cowboys aren't quite what I expected."

"How so?"

"I thought they'd be all flinty and stand-offish, but they're...surprisingly soulful."

"I know."

"And it isn't a punchline or a political statement, is it? They're not doing it to be counterculture or trendy. They really love each other."

"Yes."

He sighed. "Frankly, I'm a little jealous. If I become gay, can I have a cowboy of my very own?"

Liz laughed. "Take a number."

* * *

Jack and Ennis stood near the gate, waiting for the door to open and disgorge the plane's passengers, including Junior. Ennis was trying to play it cool, even though he could hardly stand still from excitement. For days, Junior's belongings had been arriving in boxes brought by the UPS truck, and Lizzie had been unpacking her things for her and busily making the bungalow homey with knick-knacks and personal touches. There were books on the bookshelves and dishes in the small kitchen, curtains at the windows and framed prints on the walls. Junior's room had a corner desk for her schoolwork, and Lizzie's had one for her writing. Ennis hoped that the place would feel welcoming to his daughter when she arrived.

He glanced over at Jack, who was watching him knowingly. "Excited, ain't you?" he said.

"Sure. Ain't you?"

Jack smiled and nodded. "Be nice t'have her home with us." He chuckled. "I guess our days as swingin' bachelors are over, ain't they? What with two women around the place."

Ennis looked at him, and made a surprisingly easy decision. He reached out and grasped Jack's hand, pulling him closer. Jack's eyes widened a little but he said nothing. "We ain't been bachelors for awhile, rodeo," he said, quietly.

He went back to watching the gate, his fingers laced through Jack's, trying not to be too obvious about the fact that he was looking around for reactions. So far, no one seemed to take much note of the fact that there were two men holding hands in their midst. Then he saw a woman's eyes flick to their joined hands; her lip curled and she turned away. He saw one man press his lips together and shake his head, as if bemoaning the sad state of the world. A younger woman smiled a little when she saw him looking at her. No one seemed moved to action or comment. That was just fine. He could handle their dirty looks and their quiet disgust. He just didn't want to have to administer a beatdown in the middle of the terminal. That'd sure put the kibosh on Junior's happy homecoming.

Finally, the plane arrived and the jetway was rolled to its door. Ennis straightened up as the gate door opened, watching for Junior's smiling face. Passenger after passenger disembarked, looking tired and travel-weary, their carryons over their shoulders, their eyes distant and distracted.

But then, there she was. She spotted them immediately and jumped up, waving. She pushed her way through the crush of people milling around the gate area. "Daddy!" she cried. Ennis dropped Jack's hand to catch her as she threw herself into his arms, grinning. "I can't believe I'm finally here!" she said. She released Ennis and went right to Jack, flinging her arms around his neck with equal enthusiasm. Ennis caught the happy smile that flitted across Jack's face to be included.

"Welcome home, Junior," Ennis said, touching her arm like she'd dissolve away if he didn't keep some kind of contact with her.

She let go of Jack and stepped between them. "Finally," she said. "Times I thought this day'd never come!" She looped her arms through theirs and they started off down the concourse. "Last coupla months have been kinda tense at home." They went directly out to the parking lot; most of Junior's belongings were already at the ranch, so she hadn't checked a bag.

Ennis was opening the car door for her when she let out a little squawk and grabbed his hand. "Daddy!" she exclaimed, holding up his left hand. "You're wearing a ring!"

He felt his face heat up; he glanced at Jack in time to see him smile and wink at him. "Yeah," he said. "Toldja Jack finally made an honest man 'o me."

She beamed up at him. "I think that's great." She stood on tiptoe and kissed his cheek, then climbed into the back seat. Jack got into the driver's seat, started up the car and they were off. "That's what this party's for, isn't it?" she said, once they were underway.

"Not really," Ennis said. "Mostly it's so's all our friends c'n meet you."

"Sure. I bet they all believe _that._"

"Now Junior, me 'n Jack don't wanna make no fuss. It ain't gonna be no weddin' party 'cause there ain't been no weddin'. Well, no _legal_ one, anyway," he added, off Jack's look.

"Uh-huh. You just decided to have a big party, which I bet you ain't never done before, for no particular reason."

"There's a reason!" Ennis exclaimed. "Ain't you comin' reason enough?"

"Nope."

Ennis sighed. "All right, we kinda wanted t'have a party t?celebrate gettin? hitched, but we ain't sayin' so, y'hear? That ain't the reason we're tellin' everbody."

Junior put her hands up in a gesture of surrender. "Okay, if you insist." She sat back against the seat, some of the nervous energy leaving her posture. "I can't wait to see my little house," she said. "And Lizzie."

Ennis turned around and looked at her. "Now, you're sure it don't bother you that she's gonna..."

"Dad, we've been over and over this. I _don't mind_ that Lizzie's gonna live there with me. I'm _glad._ I like her! It'll be nice not to be alone in the house! Will you relax? I'm just so glad to be out of Riverton, I think I'd bunk up with the hands if I had to."

Ennis glanced at Jack, seeing from the slight furrow of his brow that he'd picked up on the tension in her voice, too. "That's the second time you've said things in Riverton ain't so good," Ennis said. "You wanna tell me what's up? And why the hell don't Francie wanna talk t'me no more? Ever' time I call she's out, or busy, or jus' not in the mood t'talk."

Junior sighed. "That's part of it. Not all of it. Look, Mamma still ain't easy in her mind about me comin' out here. I swear, I don't know what she's afraid's gonna happen."

"Me neither."

"She's been tryin' her best to set me up with some guy, hopin' I'd fall in love and not want to leave him." She snorted. "Fat chance. Then she started in with the guilt. If I leave, who's gonna help look out for Francie, and who's gonna help her with the kids, and on and on. I told her that wasn't my problem, and I gotta live my own life."

Ennis smiled, fierce pride in Junior swelling inside him. She had a lot more guts than he'd had at her age. If he'd been like her, he and Jack might _really_ have been together twenty years. "Good for you, darlin'."

"I did feel bad leavin' her, but damn! Ain't I supposed to want my own life? Am I supposed to just live to make hers easier?"

"You did the right thing," Ennis said.

"Then Monroe'd go on and on about how I'd be ruined, or get in trouble, whatever the hell that means. It's like he thinks 'cause you and Jack are together it means you don't have any morals at all, and you'd just let me run wild. Not that I'd run wild anyway, but you know what I mean."

Ennis nodded. "I do."

"I told him right to his face that you'd been a better father to me from two thousand miles away than he ever was from two feet away."

Jack chuckled. "The hell you did," he said.

"As I live and breathe," Junior said, sounding pleased with herself. "Plus I told him that here I'd have _two_ fathers looking out for me and probably getting out the shotgun if any boys came around, so it sure as hell wasn't for the free-spirited living that I was moving out here." She sighed. "Then he said that you and Jack weren't decent men and I'd be corrupted."

"What'd you say to that?"

"I told him to stick it up his ass."

Jack whooped. "Hoooo-ey! Right on!"

Junior was shifting in her seat. "That's when he hit me."

Jack's laughter cut off as if guillotined, and Ennis whipped his head around to meet her eyes, rage boiling up from his gut. "He hit you?" he asked.

"Just a slap across the face. Take it easy, Daddy."

"I'll kill him," Ennis growled. "Lay a hand on my daughter, huh? Where the fuck was your mother during all of this?"

"She was there. She wasn't sayin' much. She stepped in when he slapped me, though. Probably 'cause she could see I was ready to hit back. She told him to leave me alone, and that my mind was made up."

Ennis grunted. "At least your mamma's still got some sense."

"Francie...well, that's something else."

He frowned. "What?" Junior seemed reluctant to talk about it.

"She's changed some in the last few months."

"Changed how?"

Junior met his eyes. "She's got religion, Daddy, and not in a good way. She'd been acting out some, runnin' around with boys, getting in a little trouble. Nothing too bad, the way I saw it, just kid stuff, but to hear Mamma and Monroe talk you'd think she was out sacrificing live chickens or dancing naked in the moonlight. Monroe heard about this church camp for 'rebellious youth' and they sent her there for two weeks right after school let out. I don't know what kind of holy rollers ran that camp, but she came back talkin' like one of them. All of a sudden even my Patsy Cline records were the devil's music, and my skirts that were above the knees were indecent, and going to dances with boys was a one-way ticket to the fires of Hell." Junior shook her head. "It was so over-the-top at first I thought she was puttin' me on. Couldn't be serious. But come to find out she _was_ serious. I think it even gave Mamma and Monroe a turn. Don't think that's what they expected. They tried to stop her going to these meetings she was going to, but she'd have friends from the church pick her up. She stopped going with them to their church. She and Mamma had this awful fight after Francie told Mamma she'd gone against God when she divorced you, Daddy."

Ennis felt cold. This was all news to him. "How come I'm just now hearing about this?" he asked.

"What good would it have done to tell you before?" Junior said. "Ain't nothing you can do about it. Either she'll snap out of it and get some sense, or she'll keep on with it." She shifted in her seat. "Besides, I didn't want to upset you. I just wanted to get _away._ You oughta hear what she says about you, Daddy. I can't stand to repeat it."

"I can imagine," Ennis said, quietly. He and Francine had never been as close as he and Junior had been. Junior was like him in a way that made her easy to understand, but Francie had always been a cipher. It pained him, but there wasn't anything he could do about it. Now it seemed the gulf between him and his younger daughter yawned even wider.

"She's ready to disown _me_ for comin' here to live. I think she told her church group about you, and all of a sudden the last week or so, she's been after me to try and save you from your life of abomination and perversion."

Ennis snorted, irritated. "Yes, please. Save me, seein' as it was almost more'n she could do to talk to me on the phone for five minutes once a month the last seven years. I c'n tell she's real concerned 'bout my well-bein'. How is it she wants t'save me but won't speak t'me?"

Junior shrugged. "Don't ask me to explain it. I don't understand any of it. I asked my pastor back in Riverton what he thought, and he said that folks like that had forgotten about God's mercy, and Jesus's love of the outcasts." She shook her head. "It's just sad to me."

"Me, too," Ennis said, staring out the window. He could deal with Alma and Monroe's bad opinion of him, but Francine...that was harder. All he could think of was how her little face had turned to him as a child, how she'd looked at him as if he had the power to make all her dreams come true. Now, it seemed the only thing on her face would be judgment and condemnation. "I guess she feels it's her duty t'punish me for who I am."

Jack sighed. "Let he who is without sin among you cast the first stone," he said quietly.

* * *

Junior was almost beside herself with excitement as Jack pulled into the long drive. When her father had told her that they were building an entire _house_ for her to live in, she'd been overwhelmed. The next stop had been guilt. She hadn't wanted to cost her father and Jack so much money. She hadn't wanted them to go to all that trouble just for her. As the months passed, though, her guilt abated. When she talked to them on the phone, it was clear that they were excited for her to come and didn't resent the expense. Jack made it sound like the bungalow was something they'd been meaning to do anyway, and that Junior had just given them a good excuse to go ahead with it.

Jack drove past the house onto a brand-new little offshoot of gravel driveway that led down to the bungalow. Junior gasped when they crested the ridge and she saw her new home. It was set closer to the river than the main house, about fifty yards to its right, and smaller. It was the same stone-and-timber construction and had a wide porch on the side that faced the river. "Oh, Daddy," she said.

Her father turned in his seat, smiling. "What d'you think, darlin'?"

"It's beautiful." She felt herself getting a little choked up. "I just can't believe you guys did this for me."

"Well, we cain't believe you actually wanna live here, and help run this place. Least we c'n do is give you a nice place t'live while you do it."

Jack pulled up to the house and Junior jumped out. Lizzie came out the front door, smiling and waving. Junior ran to hug her. "Look at our little house, Lizzie!" she exclaimed.

"I know!" Liz said. "Come see the inside!" Junior let herself be led around, gaping around at the bungalow in amazement. It looked and felt like a home already, _her_ home. Her favorite afghan was across the back of the couch. Some of her own books were in the bookcases. Her room, when she saw it, was full of her own belongings. "I hope you don't mind that I unpacked for you a bit," Liz said.

"Are you kidding? I'd been dreading it." She shook her head, grinning at her father and Jack, who were lurking in the doorway. "It's so beautiful," she said. "It's perfect." She walked back across to the door and hugged her father. "Thank you, Daddy," she murmured.

"You're welcome, sweetheart," he said. She just wanted to stay here forever, safe in her father's arms, where she'd always felt that nothing and no one could ever harm her. She hadn't appreciated how much she'd missed his daily presence until now, when she could look forward to seeing him every day again. She released him and moved to hug Jack, too, in keeping with the resolution she'd made on the plane...namely, to treat Jack as her father would want her to, as an equal member of the family. She was fond of Jack, but it was damn hard to get down to that last little stubborn kernel of resentment that still lurked deep inside. This was the hard stuff, those feelings that had withstood time, effort and her growing friendship with Jack but yet remained as sharp and distressing as ever. _If it weren't for him..._ was their typical refrain. _If it weren't for him, your mother would be happy. If it weren't for him, your family would be whole. If it weren't for him..._ She shut the voice down as she hugged him, doing her best to replace it with the thoughts she'd rather be having. _Because of him, my daddy's happy. Because of him, he's successful. Because of him, I'm making more of my life than I would have in Riverton. Because of him, my father has love in his life._

She wanted that last one to trump everything else. Perhaps once she'd put Riverton far enough behind her, it would.

* * *

Jack and Ennis brought the car back to the garage and headed into the house. They'd spent most of the evening hanging out with Liz and Junior in the bungalow. Breaking in the sparkling-clean kitchen, helping rearrange the furniture, playing an impromptu game of gin rummy around the living-room coffee table. At dinnertime they'd ordered pizza, having to shout to the confused delivery boy when he'd arrived, and more than a few beers had been consumed.

Jack stretched and yawned as he walked into the living room. Suddenly he felt a hand grab his forearm and he was yanked backwards and spun around. Before he could even react he was in Ennis's arms, being kissed hard. "Mmmph," was all he could say. He pushed on Ennis's shoulders so he could wrench his face free. "What the hell?" he said, smirking.

Ennis had an predatory gleam in his eye. "Take your clothes off," he rumbled.

Jack raised an eyebrow. "Why?"

"Because for the first time in over a month we got the house to ourselves and I intend to do you right now, right here on the living room floor."

His flat, declarative _you're-mine-so-get-used-to-it_ tone and the look in his eyes were getting Jack's juices flowing. "Well, when you ask so nicely," he said, stepping back to do as Ennis suggested.

* * *

The day of the party dawned bright and sunny. Good thing, too, Jack thought, because if it hadn't, he really feared that Lizzie might kill somebody. Possibly him.

He came up behind Ennis, who was brushing his teeth. "You ready, cowboy? Tonight you have to be sociable and charming to about a hundred people."

Ennis spat in the sink. "Don't remind me. Why're we doin' this, again?"

"It seemed like a good idea at the time." Ennis straightened up and Jack slipped his arms around his waist, resting his chin on Ennis's shoulder. He saw in the mirror a little smile come to Ennis's lips, and his hands went to Jack's arms where they encircled him. "And you know damn well the whole fuckin' lot of 'em are thinkin' this party's for us no matter what we say."

"I know." Ennis sighed. "I guess ain't nothin' we c'n do 'bout it."

"We c'n be gracious hosts and act like we got no idea what anybody's talkin' about."

Ennis turned around in his arms. "Well...if they all wanna come congratulate us for...you know...maybe we just oughta let 'em. They mean well, after all."

Jack frowned. "Am I hearin' this right?"

Ennis sighed and ran his hands up Jack's chest to grip his shoulders. "I've spent a lot 'o years hatin' life and keepin' my head down." He shrugged. "Maybe I got a reason t'celebrate now." He darted his head forward and kissed Jack, then drew back and made as if to leave, but Jack held him fast.

"No. Uh-huh. You don't get off that easy, Del Mar."

Ennis smirked. "Oh, I don't, do I? Then I guess you gonna have t'work extra hard." He kissed Jack again, and this time, he wasn't so quick to step away.

* * *

The sun was warm on Lizzie's neck as she directed the many proceedings in the backyard...in fact, she was starting to feel distinctly sweaty. The party was going to be held in the low flat area below the patio, down by the river...the area which a memorably shirtless Jack had cleared of debris a few months back. The band, a local bluegrass combo that Peter had recommended, would set up on the bungalow's porch, sparing them the trouble of setting up a platform for them. Rod Borrickson and a few of the hands were moving the big barbecue down to the riverbank where the food would be set up, courtesy of Marty Linebeck, who had gasped in horror when Liz had told her that she was planning to have the party catered by a barbecue restaurant in Middlebury. "I won't hear of it!" Marty had exclaimed. "I'll take care of the food and I don't want to hear another word about it!" Liz had been dubious (she'd been burned by homegrown friend-of-a-friend catering before) until she'd been assured by several people, including Jack and Ennis, that Marty did this all the time and was very good at it.

The rental company was setting up a temporary dance floor at the flattest place of the yard, just below the bungalow's porch where the band would be, as well as numerous tables and chairs. All the hands had been roped into helping, and none of them looked particularly thrilled about it.

Junior came staggering down to the yard with a large box full of red-and-white checked tablecloths that Liz had borrowed from the church. "Where do you want these?"

"Oh, set them anywhere. We're going to put them on the tables in a minute. Did you see those citronella torches?"

"Yeah, they're in the barn."

Liz turned around, contemplating the crates behind her. "I don't know what to do about these lights."

"What about them?"

"Well, we've got a whole bunch of these paper lantern-type things. They'd look neat strung between the trees. But then I've got a lot of these smaller lights and I don't know what to do with them. It's going to look Christmassy."

Junior flapped a hand. "Who cares? Put everything up. No one will mind if it doesn't all match exactly."

"And then we have the torches...so it'll be kind of a Christmas-biergarten-luau lighting scheme." Liz laughed. "I guess that makes sense for a party that doesn't know why it's being held."

"I better get started on those lumer-whatevers. Where are all those milk jugs?"

"In those garbage bags on the porch. There's a big bag of sand. Put about three inches in the bottom of each one so they stand up, then there's candles."

"I don't have to make enough to line the whole driveway, do I?" Junior said, looking daunted at the prospect.

"God, no. You'll be cutting milk jugs in half until doomsday. Just enough to mark out a path from the front of the house leading back here. You know...it's festive!" They both laughed. The phrase had become something of a joke between Liz and Junior as they made the final preparations. Whenever something didn't work out or wasn't exactly what they'd planned, they'd just jerry-rig something and exclaim "it'll be festive!"

A station wagon drove into the backyard, made a three-point turn and started backing down towards the river. Liz waved to Marty, behind the wheel, who waved back. Arlene Trimble was in the passenger seat. The two women got out, looking ready to cook for the whole county. "Where are we putting the meat, Lizzie?"

"In the big freezer in the basement. You can get in through the door underneath the patio. Jack put a big tub of ice down there for the...my God, is that it?" Liz said, peering into the back of Marty's station wagon.

"Yep," Marty said, grinning. "One whole pig, fresh from the butchers."

"It, uh...it has a head. With eyes in it."

"Of course it does. Haven't you ever been to a pig roast?"

"We don't do much barbecuing on that scale in Manhattan." Liz frowned. "My God, how are we going to cook it?"

"How God intended. On a spit. Grant's right behind me, he's got the hardware. He'll dig a pit and get it set up." Marty hefted a five-gallon pail out of the car and set it on the ground. "And here you got your sauce. My own special recipe."

Liz shook her head. "You really ought to go into catering, Marty."

"Everybody says that. I don't have time to make it a real business, and if I had to do it everyday I'd get sick of it. I'm just happy to do it once in awhile for friends."

Arlene was loading big foil-covered pans onto a cart that Rod brought her. "All this going in the basement, too?"

Liz nodded. "There's bags of ice down there, since we don't have a big enough fridge for it."

Arlene set off with the first load on the cart. Marty was looking around. "So we got the cooking area down here...tables and chairs here...dancing there..." She looked at Liz. "You going to put up a gift table?"

Liz frowned. "A gift table? What for?"

"For the gifts. As the name suggests."

"What gifts?"

"For Jack and Ennis."

Liz blinked. "People are bringing _gifts?_"

"Of course."

"Why? The party's for Junior!"

Marty gave her an are-you-kidding-me look. "Oh, Liz. That isn't fooling anybody, you know. Everyone knows this is really for them."

"Well, that's not very nice for Junior, is it? Her dad and Jack give a party so everybody can meet her, and they all just come thinking it's a party for them instead."

"Of course it's for Junior, but they wouldn't be having it if weren't...well, for that little thing they did that we're not supposed to talk about. It can be for Junior and for that, too! But you don't bring people welcome-to-town gifts. You _do_ bring people wedding gifts, though, and everyone _I_ know who's coming is bringing one."

"What'd _you_ get them?"

"Me and Grant went in with Fred and Arlene and got them a VCR. I know they don't have one yet."

Liz sighed. "Well, isn't this just great. I didn't get them a damned thing."

"Oh, please. You organized this whole party! The fact that they didn't have to deal with the planning is the best present they could get."

* * *

Jack and Ennis rode in from the north paddock just after four, earlier than usual. The guests were supposed to start arriving at six, and they'd have to wash the day's dust off themselves so they'd be shiny and scrubbed for the party.

Their horses were walking towards the ranch in the distance, taking their time. No need to rush. This nightly ritual of chatting while riding in from the field had become important to them. Mostly they talked business, but it felt to Jack like a little daily check-in with his partner, in life as well as in the ranch. It was nice. "Think we oughta install phone lines out there?" Ennis asked. This had been a running discussion. Their satellite pastures were somewhat isolated, and their keepers had no practical way to communicate with home base if something were to go wrong.

"Lizzie's plannin' to set up the whole place with short-wave radios," Jack said. "We can all have one, so we can talk to each other and to her back at the office."

Ennis nodded. "Damned good idea." Beat. "Why didn't we think of that years ago?"

Jack shrugged. "Ain't been but a coupla years that we've been spread out enough to need somethin' like that. And we have been powerful busy in the meantime. Wasn't a priority, I guess."

"Stroke of luck gettin' her in the office," Ennis said after a few moments had passed. "It's workin' out real well."

"Yeah."

"I think I'm gettin' the best part of it."

"How you figure?"

Ennis sighed. "It's jus' been real good havin' you out here with me again, instead of stuck in that office all day. Feels like old times." He cleared his throat. "Feels like we're partners again."

Jack frowned. "Ain't we always been partners?"

"Yeah, but...well, with me out here 'n you in the office...I dunno. Felt a bit too much like you was the boss and I was jus' a workin' man again."

Jack thought about denying it, but didn't. He couldn't. It had felt a bit like that to him, too, and he hadn't liked it. "I'm glad t'be out here again, too."

Ennis seemed to be gathering his courage to speak. Jack waited for him to put his words in order, something he found himself doing often. "Listen, I know I ain't good with the numbers 'n figures. It's you bringin' in all our business, and sometimes I feel bad I cain't help with some 'o that."

"Aw hell, Ennis," Jack said. "There's bringin' in business and then there's keepin' it. The keepin's more important, 'cause that's what lasts. And it's you keepin' it for us."

Ennis glanced at him; Jack could sense that this unexpected credit pleased him. "It is?"

"Yeah. You keep it by makin' sure everthin' runs smooth so folks that do business with us get what they pay for, and it's what they want, and it's what we promised 'em. It's on your account that folks c'n depend on us, and that's what makes for good business. So don't give me this 'I ain't important' crap just 'cause you don't balance the ledger. Any asshole with a calculator c'n do that. Ain't just anybody could do what you do."

Ennis didn't look entirely convinced. "I ain't smart like you," he muttered, keeping his eyes forward. "Times it gets t'me."

"I wish you wouldn't say shit like that 'bout yourself," Jack said with a weary sigh. "I ain't no Einstein, neither. How you judge somethin' like that? Ain't your fault you ain't got book-learnin'. Neither do I. We both learned what we know from life." He paused. "Remember Rory's fire?" Their dairyman neighbor, Rory Duchamp, was a sweet man and a good dairyman, but cursed with clumsiness and bad luck. He was forever crashing tractors, falling into sinkholes, and stepping on rakes. A small fire had begun in his stable a few years back during a family party Ennis and Jack had been invited to. Everyone else, including Jack himself, had flailed about in near-panic, but Ennis had been cool as a cucumber. Lickety-split, he'd corralled everyone and begun barking orders. Within a few minutes the horses were led to safety, flammable bales of hay were moved and heavy grain sacks were distributed to slap out escaping sparks. He'd set up an efficient little bucket brigade and before the fire department arrived, the blaze had been extinguished before it could spread and burn down the whole stable. Jack had admired Ennis's presence of mind and snappish leadership in that mini-crisis, and he'd never forgotten it.

"Sure, I remember."

"That's jus' what I mean. You don't get squirrelly. You just get it done. I love that about you. I wish I had that."

Ennis shot him a glance. "Well...you got other attributes, so I'll forgive you for the squirrelly."

"Asshole."

They crested the hill, giving them a view across the river down to the house. The backyard was a hubbub of activity. Lights were being strung, a barbecue pit had been dug, tables, chairs and a dance floor were set up. "Christ, this is really happenin', ain't it?" Ennis muttered.

"Not too late t'back out. We could jus' hop in the truck, go up t'the cabin and have sex all weekend. No one'd notice. They c'n have the party without us."

Ennis sighed. "Fun as that sounds, I think we better put in an appearance." He didn't move. "I s'pose I'm gonna hafta say somethin'. Y'know, bein' that the party's for Junior and all."

"I thought we agreed that no one was buyin' that story."

"Don't mean we gotta quit tellin' it."

Jack smiled and patted Ennis's shoulder. "Don't worry, cowboy. If there's words t'be said, I'll say 'em."

"You will?"

"Don't I always?"

Ennis looked thoughtful at that. "Yep, you sure do."

* * *

Liz was proud of herself. Despite the mixed lighting messages, the yard looked great. It looked homey and fun, like it would be okay to put your feet up on the table and have a beer. That was what she'd wanted.

Grant Linebeck had put the pig on the mechanized spit (a procedure she'd been sure to stay far away from) and the coals beneath were glowing. The big barbecue was fired up and ready to churn out the mass quantities of meat that seemed to be required for these country parties. Buckets of ice full of beer and soda were everywhere. The tables were sagging with the weight of foil pans full of Marty's potato salad and baked beans. The band was tuning up. Junior had placed the last lumiere and then run into the bungalow to quickly shower and change, as Liz herself had only just done.

If she could just find the hosts, all would be in order. She ran up the porch stairs and into the house. "Jack! Ennis! It's almost time!"

Jack came into the kitchen, buttoning his shirt, looking a little disheveled. "Okay, we're comin'," he said.

Liz arched an eyebrow. "Looks to me like you just did."

Jack colored and rolled his eyes in a way that let Liz know she was right. "Get a move on, boss," she said, winking at him.

When she returned to the backyard, the first guests were arriving. Pastor Greenfield and his wife Sharon were greeted by the Linebecks and the Trimbles, who'd been here all afternoon helping set up. Sure enough, they were carrying a wrapped box, which Marty directed them to place on the table set up for this purpose.

Liz jumped when she felt hands on her waist. "Someone told me there was free food here," Peter murmured in her ear. She turned and slapped his arm.

"Not for you, buster. You're earning your dinner."

"Hmm. What do I have to do? Will I like it?"

She giggled. "You're my rent-a-date for the evening. That means you have to make sure I have a beverage at all times, deflect any would-be suitors who start bothering me, and dance with me upon my command."

He grinned. "You're so bossy. I like that in a woman."

"In return for your services, you'll be generously rewarded."

"Is that so?"

"With barbecue. All you can eat."

Peter arched one eyebrow at her. "Bossy _and_ a tease. You New York girls are all alike." He blinked. "Which I would know because I've met a grand total of one of them."

She grabbed his hand and led him down to the yard, which was growing more crowded by the minute. "I guess it's time to mingle, now that my arm-candy's here."

As a rule, Ennis disliked parties. Small gatherings on someone's porch, that he could handle. Bars were fine, too. But at a party one was expected to do things like _mingle_ and _socialize._ Especially when one was the host. He and Jack were frequently invited to parties, to which they usually went. Jack thought it was important that they be as social, friendly and well-liked as possible to deflect hostility about their relationship. Ennis could see the logic, but he hated putting on a dog-and-pony show. At some point in the past, however, it had ceased to be a show. They'd made real friends here, and their attendance at parties had begun to feel less like an obligation and more like part of life.

But he still didn't like it that much.

At least here, it was _his_ party and _his_ house and he could be sure that everybody here was a friend. He could relax a little knowing he was in safe company. He could joke and tease and let himself be joked with and teased in return. He could smile at Jack and speak to him in a familiar way without worrying that he was jeopardizing their status in town because some stranger thought it was disgusting. There were no strangers here tonight.

The smell of the pig roast was mouth-watering. The platters and bowls of snacks were being rapidly depleted as hungry partygoers listened to their stomachs rumble. Beers were quicky disappearing from the coolers and being replenished by Marianne, who was supposed to be a guest but insisted on "looking after things," as she put it.

Junior came up to his side and linked her arm through his, smiling broadly. "You look pretty relaxed, Daddy."

"S'much as c'n be expected, I guess."

"Liz and Dr. Pete seem pretty cozy," she muttered, nodding towards where Liz and Pete were standing, talking to Mayor Bill and his wife. Pete had his arm around Lizzie's back.

Ennis sniffed. "Well, they been datin' about a month now, I guess." He looked down at her. "You meetin' everybody?"

"Sure. Your friends all seem so nice."

He smiled. "What'd you think, that our friends would be jerks?"

"No, of course not! It was just something to say," she said, elbowing him. "Anyway, they're nice."

"I'm glad you think so."

"They brought you a lot of presents, that's for sure." She wiggled her eyebrows.

Ennis rolled his eyes. "They weren't s'posed t'do that, y'know. This party's s'posed t'be for you, Junior."

"C'mon, Daddy. They all know what it's for."

"I guess."

"Just go with it."

"Don't got much choice, do I?"

* * *

Liz would wonder for a long time if it had been planned.

They'd all sat down at the long tables to eat. Grant sliced off hunks of the pig roast while Rod Borrickson, at the grill, turned out burgers and hot dogs. The band was ordered to come join in, and the feast was demolished with impressive gusto. Jack and Ennis sat side by side at the table nearest the patio. Junior sat on Ennis's other side, Liz on Jack's with Peter next to her. Fred and Arlene were at their table as well, along with Pastor Greenfield and his wife, Grant and Marty, and Paul and Roger.

For some time, the only sound was the hubbub of dozens of overlapping conversations and the slobbery sound of people eating barbecue. Liz was glad she'd stocked up on napkins. As plates were pushed away and belts were loosened, laughter grew louder and talk grew more boisterous.

Suddenly, Fred Trimble stood up and hollered for everyone to shut the hell up. Jack and Ennis looked apprehensive. "Okay," Fred began. "As we all know, we're here tonight to..._welcome Ennis's daughter to town,_" he said, lacing the last words with enough sarcasm to elicit laughter. "I for one think it's great she's come all the way from Wyoming to whip this penny-ante operation into shape, and good luck to her." He raised his beer bottle to more chuckles. "So welcome to Farmingdale, Junior. I hope you'll like it here as much as we do." Cheers and applause. "But!" Fred continued. "It's been a long time since your dad moved out here. I think you deserve to hear something of what he?s been up to in the meantime!" Louder cheers and applause. Fred put out his hands to quiet them down. "The first time I met Ennis, he was kicking the living hell out of the oldest, most beat-down pickup truck I'd ever seen. Damn thing made the trip from Wyoming and decided to crap out right in the middle of County Trunk R..."

When Fred finished his story, which involved a truckload of salvaged barbed wire, a pair of busted boots and an uncomfortable trip to the auto parts store, he sat down to more whistles and applause. Like they'd rehearsed it, Marianne stood up and told a very funny story about her first week on the job. Then Grant Linebeck told one about coming to the ranch to make his introductions and spending most of the visit trying to figure out where the new ranchers in town were hiding their wives. Paul McGill, his broken arm in a sling but his spirits apparently undimmed by his temporary disability, talked about he and Roger being welcomed into town by Ennis and Jack, all four of them totally unaware of the important thing they had in common.

One after another, Jack and Ennis's friends rose and shared a story, ostensibly for Junior's benefit. Some of them were funny. The old Labor Day Picnic punch-out story was hauled out again, much to Jack's chagrin. Many of them made veiled reference to how long it took the person telling the story to figure out that Jack and Ennis were a couple. A few of them were touching. Gus Flaubert talked about his dead son, and how Jack had been such a friend to his boy. Liz glanced at Jack and saw tears in his eyes as he listened.

She looked at Peter and saw the same thought on his face. They were keeping up the pretense that this party was for Junior, but they all knew why they were here, and they were doing their best to acknowledge it.

Finally, Fred rose again. "Well, now that we've all embarrassed them thoroughly," he said, "I think I'd like to hear what our hosts have to say in their own defense." Loud cheers and catcalls greeted this suggestion.

Jack grinned and started to get up...but then, to Liz's shock, Ennis stood up and pushed him back down into his chair. By the the expressions on the faces of some of the guests, she wasn't the only one shocked. Jack sat where he was, blinking up at Ennis in bewilderment.

Ennis fidgeted and harrumphed for a moment, his hands stuck in his pockets. "Well," he finally said. "I ain't no speaker. But seein's it's my girl's party, thought I oughta do the talkin'." He winked at Junior. "I thank y'all for comin' by. It's real nice 'o you t'make her feel so welcome. I'm over the moon she's here, and that's the truth." He paused, then abruptly bent down and kissed Junior on the cheek. She beamed at him. Ennis cleared his throat, looking around as if waiting for rescue. "I guess..." He stopped, seeming a little tongue-tied. Everyone waited. "I feel real lucky t'have such nice friends," he said, in a slightly lower voice. "I sure do thank y'all for comin'." Murmurs of assent. Ennis harrumphed again and spoke a little bit louder. "And now I guess we all oughta give a hand t'Marty, for the grub. Sure was good." Everyone clapped. Marty nodded and smiled, acknowledging the praise. "And of course, I'd be amiss if I didn't give a big thank-you to our Lizzie, 'cause she made all this possible." Liz flushed and tried to look while everyone clapped for her.

Ennis hesitated, his fingers fiddling with his beer bottle, his eyes on the table. It was clear from his posture that he wasn't done. He took a breath and went on. "And I guess I oughta say thanks to someone else, for...uh..." Ennis frowned and looked down at Jack. "What the hell d'you _do,_ anyway?" he said. Jack shrugged while everyone chuckled. Ennis looked back out over the gathered partygoers, who'd gone very quiet once again. A little smile twitched at the corner of his mouth. "Well...I guess he makes _me_ possible." Jack was staring up at Ennis like he couldn't believe it. Ennis put a hand on his shoulder. "So thanks again for comin'. It's real nice of you t'help us celebrate Junior movin' in, and..." Liz felt everyone waiting. Would he say it out loud? Ennis smirked a little. "And whatever else y'might feel moved t'celebrate."

The loudest applause yet followed this statement. Ennis sat down again, sighing the heavy sigh of a man relinquishing a very taxing burden. Jack was still staring at him, but his expression had gone from surprised disbelief to touched elation. Ennis held his gaze for a moment, then deliberately took his hand where it lay on the table, interlacing their fingers.

* * *

"So, this is the living room," Liz said, gesturing grandly for Peter's benefit. He looked around, hands clasped behind his back.

"Nice."

"And the kitchen..." She didn't get to finish her thought, because as soon as she turned her back Peter crossed the distance between them, spun her around, and kissed her. She's been half-expecting it. Why else had she suggested a tour of the bungalow while the band got set up again? She returned his kisses eagerly enough, but when he began gently leading her down the hall towards her bedroom she hesitated.

"What?" Peter said, his mouth moving down to her neck.

She tried not to think about how good he felt, but distance herself and remain rational. "I just don't think we should," she said.

Peter stopped, then slowly drew away. "Okay," he said, but there was measured impatience in his voice.

"I'm sorry, I just..."

"Liz, it's fine. I'm just starting to wonder what we're waiting for."

"You don't think it's too fast? That it's...improper or something?"

Peter was blank-faced for a moment, then she could _see_ the comprehension crash into him. "Oh my God, Liz. Is _that_ what you're afraid of?" He grabbed her hands. "Is that what you think of all of us? That because we live in the country that we all must be sex-averse, simple-minded rural folk who wouldn't approve of all your citified lascivious ways?"

"No, of course not!" Except that was _exactly_ what she'd thought, without being fully conscious of it.

He cocked his head. "I think it is. And I think you're trying to be like that, too." He sighed. "I may be a quaint country doctor, but I'm no prude, Lizzie." He took a step closer. "I'd be glad to prove it to you." His eyes, the lids at half-mast, had taken on a dark, secret quality that made her shiver. "Would you like me to tell you about all the things I've imagined doing with you?" he said, leaning close and speaking in a low, sibilant murmur. He walked around her, staying close, until he was behind her. He leaned his head forward and spoke into her ear. "I think you're beautiful, and sexy," he said, pushing her hair away from the nape of her neck. She shuddered again as he pressed his lips underneath her jawline. "Are you getting the picture?" She nodded. "I want you, Liz." His hands grasped her hips and pulled her tight back against him, and she could feel that he meant what he said.

Liz whirled around and grabbed him, slamming her mouth into his and cutting him off mid-breath. "Citified and lascivious, was it?" she said, sneaking syllables into the tiniest pauses she could manage.

"What about it?"

She drew back a little and gave him her best maneating grin. "That doesn't even begin to cover it."

By the time they emerged, the party was hopping. People were dancing, milling around and talking, and the beer seemed to be flowing liberally. All the leftover food had been moved to a central table and everyone was picking at it. Liz saw Jack dancing with Marianne, who looked ridiculously short in his arms, Junior dancing with Fred Trimble, and Ennis sitting at a table, feet kicked up on a nearby chair, talking to Rory Duchamp and Pastor Greenfield.

Liz felt loopy and warm, and slightly dizzy. Peter kissed her temple as they tried to be subtle about returning to the party. She turned and kissed him back. "I've never had sex to a bluegrass soundtrack," she said.

"Happens to me all the time." His friendly eyes were sparkling as he looked at her, and Liz felt it again. The urge to push him away and run. This had happened to her before. _He's not Charlie,_ she reminded herself. But Charlie hadn't even been Charlie at first. How did she know it would be any different?

_He's not Charlie._

"Come on, let's dance," she said, to cover her disquiet. She grabbed his hand and dragged him to the temporary wood floor sitting incongruously in the middle of the lawn. "I hope you know how."

Happily, he did. She danced next with Jack, relinquishing Peter to Nora Flaubert's enthusiastic embrace. She smiled up at her new partner, who was positively glowing. "You look all lit up," she said.

"It's the booze."

"I think it's what Ennis said at dinner."

He shook his head. "Ain't that somethin'? Never figured he'd ever be able to string together more'n two words in front of people."

"I guess he was strongly motivated."

Jack's eyes were twinkling. "I ain't the only one lookin' all glowy," he said. Liz flushed. "Get that bungalow christened, didja?"

"Shut up or I'll step on your toes."

He laughed. "Pete's a real nice guy," he said. Liz nodded, but didn't respond. This did not escape Jack's attention. "He ain't like Charlie."

"You don't even _know_ Charlie."

"I know he's a bastard, and that's one thing Pete ain't. What more I gotta know?"

She sighed. "This dating thing is so tiring. You should be glad you're safely married."

He nodded. "I sure am."

She glanced past him towards Ennis. "Think we can get him up here?"

"I'm sure he'd dance with you. I bet he'll take a spin with Junior, at least."

"I meant to dance with _you._"

Jack snorted. "That'll happen when we're playin' hockey in Hell, Lizzie. It'll be job enough to get him t'dance with a woman."

"Don't you..."

"Liz, it don't matter, honest. I really don't need him t'prove nothin' to me. He's done enough. More'n I coulda asked for, in fact." He blinked a few times, and Liz could see his emotions peeking through his affable partygoing expression. "What he said at dinner..." He shook his head. "I almos' got nothin' t'say about that."

As it turned out, Liz _did_ get Ennis to dance with her, as did Junior, but he stubbornly sat out the rest despite numerous attempts to coax him. He endured a lot of good-natured ribbing about dancing with Jack. Once Jack himself jokingly propositioned him, earning himself a few forced chuckles and then a quick but perceptible knock-it-off look. Liz spent most of her time dancing with Peter, not doing much talking, just remembering how his face had looked when he was inside her, how he had touched her, and how he was looking at her a little differently now.

* * *

"So when do you start school?" Arlene Trimble asked.

Junior just smiled and answered amiably, hoping Arlene couldn't tell that she'd answered this question at least two dozen times already tonight. "Next week."

"How long's that drive to campus?"

"Not long. Twenty minutes."

"I bet you're excited."

"I am. And a little nervous. I've been going to school in the same town with the same kids for my whole life. This is...it's just going to be so different. I'm glad I'm living with my dad. At least that's familiar."

Arlene looked like she wanted to ask something, but couldn't think how to approach it. Junior could guess what it was. "So...you've enjoyed visiting here in the past, then?"

Junior smiled. "It's okay, Mrs. Trimble. You can ask me about Dad and Jack if you want to."

"Well, it's Arlene, first of all, and I admit I'm a little curious. So...you seem like you're completely fine with it."

Junior hesitated. "I wasn't always. It was hard when I was a kid, and I didn't really get it. Now I'm just glad Dad's happy. And I love Jack. Good thing, too, 'cause I guess he's my stepdad now."

Arlene laughed. "Not that either of them will say it."

"Isn't it silly? Everyone knows why we're all here."

"Oh, I know. But I'm sure I don't have to tell you how cautious your father is. Although I have to say, he's seemed a lot more relaxed lately. Ever since Jack got hurt. Marty told me they were actually holding hands in church last Sunday."

Junior's eyebrows shot up. "Really? Wow. I'm impressed."

"I do worry for them sometimes, though. Now with what's happened to poor Dr. McGill...that Forrester maniac might be gone, but I worry he left some of his poison behind inside some folks. I'm betting they're scared of Ennis now..."

"As they oughta be," Junior said grimly.

"Right, but maybe it's making them move on to Paul and Roger. They're not cowboys with a shed full of shotguns, you know. Might seem like easier targets, if not quite as visible." Arlene seemed to shake herself. "But that's hardly cheerful talk for a happy occasion, is it?" She gestured towards Ennis, now standing near the barrel of beer and laughing with the mayor. "Think we can get your dad to dance a little more?"

"Depends."

"On what?"

"On how much beer's in that barrel."

* * *

Jack came out of the house after answering the call of nature to find Ennis standing in the shadows on the patio. The lights on the back of the house weren't lit, and the deserted patio was dark and secluded, especially contrasted with the bright lights and music only fifty yards further down the lawn. "Hey," he said.

Ennis jumped. Jack didn't think he'd known that Jack was in the house. "Oh, hey," he said, a little too quickly. Jack saw him take a quick swipe at his eyes. "Jus'...needed a little quiet."

"Sure." Jack joined him at the railing. The band was playing some swaybacked old bluegrass tune that lolled and swelled with the banjo player's fingers. He saw Lizzie dancing with Peter, her head tucked down on his shoulder, and Junior dancing with Roger, quite a bit less intimately.

"Y'think Junior's havin' fun?" Ennis asked.

"What d'you think? Look at her. She's all smiles. Glowin' like someone turned on a light inside her." Jack sighed. "I been feelin' that way all night myself." Ennis turned his head and met Jack's eyes in the dimness, only reflected light from the party lighting their faces. "Ennis...what you said at dinner..."

"Hush now," Ennis murmured, raising his hand to Jack's face. "Jus' a few words. Ain't important."

"The hell it ain't. Few words from you is like a whole speech from somebody else."

"I owed you," Ennis said, dropping his hand and stepping to the railing.

"You don't owe me nothin'."

"Beg t'differ. I owe you this," Ennis said, sweeping a hand across his body in a vague, all-encompassing gesture. "I cain't believe this is my life sometimes," he said quietly. "Other times I cain't even believe that I'm me. Times I look at myself and wonder who that fella is. Runnin' a ranch, makin' a good livin', sendin' his girl to school, and goin' to bed next to...well, someone he never thought he'd get t'be with."

Jack took a step closer. "I said, you don't owe me nothin'," he repeated. "You done this, not me. You coulda kept it all from happenin' with one word. You coulda let me go back to Childress, like you almost did. So don't go givin' me all the credit when you done all this with one word." Ennis looked at him. "It started when you said 'okay.' And don't think I don't know what it took for you t'say it, 'cause I do. But you said it, and now here we are."

Ennis nodded. "Damn sweet life."

"And this is jus' the beginning."

Ennis was quiet for a long time. He turned around and leaned against the railing, crossing his arms over his chest. "C'n I ask you somethin'?" he said.

"Sure."

He hesitated. "Why me?"

Jack frowned. "Why you, what?"

"Y'know. Why did you...for me?" Jack was still puzzled. Ennis sighed, a tinge of exasperation in it, and tried again. "Why'd you feel that way about me?"

Jack smiled. "Because you let me."

Ennis just looked at him for a few beats, then pushed away from the railing. "C'mere," he murmured.

Jack let Ennis draw him close. "What're you doin'?" he said, as Ennis put one arm around Jack's waist, the other one holding Jack's hand to his chest.

"Cain't a fella dance with his husband?" Ennis said, his lips close to Jack's ear.

Jack slid his free arm around Ennis's back. "Well, I dunno 'bout fellas in general, but I never thought _you_ would," he said, trying to play it cool while his mind was reeling and dumbstruck.

Ennis shrugged. "It's dark up here. No one's peekin'. It's jus' you 'n me, rodeo."

Jack nodded. "That's how we're best, ain't it?" Ennis didn't respond. Jack leaned the side of his head against Ennis's and let his eyes fall closed, their feet moving slowly in time with whatever song the band was playing. That sense of unreality came over him again, that same feeling of disbelief Ennis said he felt, too. Was this really happening? Couldn't be. He couldn't be here holding Ennis on the porch of their own house, on the ranch they owned and worked together. Surely he hadn't heard Ennis openly acknowledge Jack's significance to him earlier that same night, and that couldn't possibly be a ring on Ennis's finger that Jack had put there himself. As if that weren't enough to stretch belief, there was no way that a hundred of their friends and neighbors, even including Ennis's own daughter, were here celebrating all of it with them. He'd wake up any minute and be back in Childress, or in Lightning Flat, and he'd sob his despair into the unsympathetic darkness that such a perfect dream could never come true.

So what if it had? What would he have left to dream of then?

He sighed and squeezed Ennis's hand. "Know somethin'?"

"Hmmm?"

"I'm gonna bed you down like a goddamn stampede tonight."

Ennis chuckled. Jack felt the motion through his own body. "Somethin' t'look forward to," he said.

Jack snorted. "Well, I hope that ain't the _only_ thing."

"No, 'course not." He hesitated. "I know it's been seven years, but I'm still gettin' used to it."

"Used to what?"

"Lookin' forward to what's comin' instead of dreadin' it."

Jack held Ennis a little tighter, and felt himself drawn closer in return. Neither of them said anything more.

**  
THE END**

**

* * *

**

_Well, six weeks and about 130,000 words later, I've finally completed this story. I would like to thank each and every reader who's taken the time to read my story, and to leave me comments or send me emails. It's your doing that I kept going with it, so don't thank me for writing, thank yourselves._

_But don't think you're off the hook quite yet. I'm taking a brief writing vacation, and then in a few weeks I'll start the sequel I have planned. It will be titled "Two Crows Joy," and it will pick up about four months after "Human Interest" ended, around Christmastime. Some of the plot threads begun in "Human Interest" will continue, and some new ones will be introduced. I think every person who leaves a comment to this final chapter ought to include an idea for what Ennis and Jack might have received from their friends as wedding presents. And no fair citing the VCR, I told you that one._


End file.
